My son, Merlin
by battlemaiden518
Summary: What if Balinor had visited Hunith and discovered he had a son, and then decided to risk everything to meet his son in Camelot? Set in Season 2. AU. Is now a one-shot collection. Chapter 15: AU of 2.13, "The Last Dragonlord."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm so excited for this fic! I love Balinor and Merlin. =)**

**This is set in Season 2, after the episode "The Sins of the Father" but before the episode "The Lady of the Lake."**

**By the way, according to the Merlin Wiki, Merlin is nineteen in Season 2, so I figure it's been about twenty years since Balinor last saw Hunith.**

**This will probably be a two-shot, possibly a three-shot**

**And because I've seen other authors do this…**

**Rating: K**

**Warnings: None**

**Pairings: Balinor/Hunith**

**And by the way, I'm sorry for the terrible title.**

Balinor considered himself a patient man. A man who did not always need to know. A man who could bear his lot in life. A man who could make sacrifices. A man who endured.

And then one day, his patience and endurance, the walls he had worked so hard for so long to build around himself, collapsed like a rickety house in a storm.

It had been such a small thing that had set it off- and such an ordinary thing, too. It was the pendant Hunith had given him when he left Ealdor. He wore it every day, had been looking at it for twenty years now, yet for some reason, today, when he looked at it, he had felt something snap inside him, and all of a sudden he _had _to know, and no amount of willpower and telling himself it was not a wise idea could stop him.

-Merlin-

The journey took nearly an entire day, a day Balinor filled with self-doubts and second guessing. _You don't know if she's even alive, _he told himself. _What if Uther discovered what she had done and killed her?_ That, Balinor thought, was unlikely- he had kept an ear out for gossip concerning dragonlords throughout the years and had never heard anything about a peasant woman being killed for sheltering one. _Of course, Uther could have done it quietly…_

When he was not worrying about whether or not she was alive, he was worrying about other things. _What if she is married? What if she has moved? What if she has forgotten me? What if, what if, what if?_

But he always arrived at the same conclusion: the wondering was tearing him apart, and he would never rest until he knew, so the only thing he could do was to continue on to the place he had last seen her.

The sun was just setting as he reached the top of the last hill and looked upon the tiny village that had come to mean so much to him. _Hunith, I'm back._

He made straight for the home she had lived in when he was last there. Smoke was rising from the hole in the roof, and he could smell what was probably stew cooking. It was definitely inhabited. Even if she no longer lived there, the people who did could probably tell them what had become of her.

Balinor walked up to the small window on the side. There was a fleeting moment of cowardice, in which he was tempted to not look for fear of what he might see, but he quickly shoved it away and, taking a deep breath, peered inside.

As he had suspected, there was a pot over the fireplace. A woman stood at the other end of the home, bent over a table, slicing bread. She had her back to Balinor so that he could not identify her, but she was small and thin, like Hunith. He glanced quickly around the home- a small bed, a few chairs. Whoever this woman was, it was clear she lived alone. Balinor felt a sudden surge of hope, and, before he could stop himself, strode around the house and knocked on the door.

It opened almost instantly, and Balinor's breath caught in his throat.

It was her.

It was Hunith, _his _Hunith. Older, more worn, but somehow even more beautiful for all of that. "Hunith…" he said, struggling to keep his voice from breaking in a most unmanly way.

Her face, which had before been puzzled and slightly alarmed, suddenly cleared in recognition. _"Balinor?"_ she whispered.

He nodded.

Her eyes widened, and she glanced around furtively before seizing the front of his tunic and pulling him into the house, shutting the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Are you alright? What's happened?"

"I came to see you," he confessed. "I had to know how you were doing."

She stared at him in shock for a moment, then suddenly that affectionate, proud smile he had missed so much spread across her face, and she wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, Balinor," she murmured, "I've missed you so much."

"And I you," he said, embracing her in return.

She pulled away, beaming and wiping her eyes. "You're just in time for dinner," she said, and quickly pulled an extra bowl and cup from a small shelf and set them on the table, seemingly unable to keep from smiling the entire time. She then bustled over to the pot, stirred it, and evidently decided it was ready, for she wrapped her hand in her skirt and lifted the handle off the hook.

Balinor quickly stepped forward. "Here… let me." He used his jacket to shield his hand from the hot metal of the handle, and carried it over to the table.

Hunith beamed at him again and began to ladle the soup into the two bowls. When she was done, Balinor set the pot by the fire and then took a seat at the table.

Hunith seemed near bursting with happiness and eagerness as they began to eat. "How have you been?" she asked.

"As well I can be," he replied. "I live in Essetir, at the foot of the Feorre Mountain. In… a cave."

She stared at him in shock. "A _cave_? Balinor, that's dreadful."

"It's not so bad," he said, giving her a small smile. "And you… how have you been?" He wanted to ask her if there was someone else now (why wouldn't there be, after all these years; she was so kind and beautiful, surely she would have caught someone's eye). He thought that might be a bit presumptuous, however, and decided that if she considered it important, she would tell him.

"I've been quite well," she said, and, for the first time since he had entered the house, her smile faltered.

"What is it?" he said anxiously, his heart speeding up.

She looked up nervously, then, upon seeing his face, gave a little laugh. "Oh, no, it's nothing like that," she said. "Nothing bad. It's just..." She bit her lip and fell into a pensive silence.

"Yes?" he prompted gently.

She gave a sigh. "Balinor…" She looked up and met his eyes. He held his breath. "You have a son."

Of all the things Balinor had thought Hunith might say, that possibility had never occurred to him. He sat staring at her, unable to do anything but sit in shock.

_I have a son._

_I have a son._

_I have a _son.

"What…" he finally managed to say. He was not quite sure what he was asking, but Hunith seemed to know.

"His name is Merlin," she said, and he could see the pride in her eyes. "He's nineteen years old. He's such a good boy, Balinor, you'd be so proud of him."

"What's he like?" the dragonlord managed.

She smiled fondly. "He's… kind and gentle and brave…"

"Like you, then," Balinor murmured.

She shook her head. "No. Every day I see more and more of you in him." She paused, looking down at her stew. "He has magic," she said quietly.

"He's the son of a dragonlord," said Balinor quietly. "Half human, half creature of the Old Religion, brother to the dragon. I'm not surprised."

"Oh, but Merlin is… different. Even before he could talk, he was moving things with his mind. He was born that way."

Balinor looked up at her, startled. "But that's impossible."

A small smile appeared on her lips. "Apparently not."

Balinor felt an answering smile lifting his own mouth. He could barely wrap his mind around the idea. He had a _son_. A boy. He was a father.

The notion was alien and yet so comforting.

Suddenly it occurred to him that the boy should be present. "Where is he?"

Hunith's face fell a little, and something appeared in her expression. Was that… wariness? "He… he's living with my brother, Gaius."

"Gaius is a good man," said Balinor quietly, remembering the man with affection. Then suddenly something struck him. "But… he lives in Camelot."

Hunith bit her lip.

"Where magic is punishable by _death_!"

Hunith's hands began to tremble.

"What is he _doing _there?" cried Balinor, a fierce wave of protectiveness overwhelming him for this boy he had never even met. _My son_.

"Balinor, I…" Now Hunith's voice was trembling slightly too. "I didn't know what else to do. His magic was out of control. He had no idea how to rein it in. People were becoming suspicious. If word were to get to Kanen… or _Cenred_… I had nowhere else to send him."

He realized she was on the verge of tears and was ashamed. "I'm sorry, Hunith. I was just… startled. And frightened."

"So am I," she murmured. And then her face brightened with a smile. "He's doing very well there, though. He's made friends, is very happy. Here he… never really had anyone except a boy named Will. The other children… well, I'm not married. They took it out on him."

Balinor nodded silently, noting what she had said about being married. "Well, I'm… glad he's alright," he muttered absently, his thoughts consumed with this boy. He felt more alive, more eager than he had in twenty years. He felt as though he had a _purpose. _"I want to meet him," he announced. No, not want. _Need_. He needed to meet the boy, would not be able to rest until he did. He had a _son_, a son who was now nineteen years old. All that time, he had not been there… He was determined to change that now.

Hunith smiled. "I'll write to him at once, tell him to come as soon as possible."

"How long will that take?"

Her face fell a little. "A few weeks. But…"

He shook his head. "No. I cannot endanger you by staying here that long." He stood up, his mind made up.

"Balinor," said Hunith suspiciously, "what are you doing?"

"I'm going to Camelot."

**A/N: So... what did you think? Please tell me, even if you hated it. I want to become better. =) Are Balinor and Hunith OOC? Are people interested? Should I continue?**

**And if people want me to continue, and there's anything people want to see in this story, please let me know! I don't have many ideas for the next chapter or for Balinor and Merlin's meeting, and I'm eager to hear suggestions!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This cannot be right. I must be dreaming... or dead... because I received **_**15 **_**reviews, **_**11 **_**favorites, and **_**28 **_**followers... all for one chapter! You guys are amazing. Words cannot begin to describe how happy I am! I am in the clouds right now, people! Thanks so much, to every one of you!**

**blondeperson, Carol27, guest, and merlina fever... thanks so much for your reviews! They mean a lot to me! I would have sent you guys PMs, but... I couldn't .xD**

**The inspiration for this chapter comes from cyenthia30 and Fai's smile. Thanks, guys! =)**

**So... I had quite a time with this chapter! I was nearly done with it, but then the stupid computer erased it when I was almost done. So then I wrote it all again today. I have to say, though, I'm happy that that happened... I like version 2 a lot better xD And I learned to write everything important on google docs...**

**Anyways... you're probably tired of my blabbing... chapter 2! =)**

Chapter 2

Ealdor was still and pale in the predawn light. Hunith stood outside her home, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, two rolls of parchment clutched in her hand, and a crease of worry on her brow. She turned as Balinor stepped out of the doorway, a pack slung over his shoulder, and gave a little sigh.

She and Balinor had stayed up late into the night before, arguing over the dying fire. She did not want him to go to Camelot; he wanted nothing more than to go. Hunith had done her best to persuade him otherwise, but he refuted all her arguments with ease. Balinor had not been in Merlin's life for nineteen years, and he was determined to atone for that. Hunith could not blame him. She knew that, had their situations been reversed somehow, she would have done the exact same. In fact, she realized a part of her was proud of Balinor for his willingness to risk so much just to meet his son.

"Here," she murmured, holding out the rolls of parchment. "The one with the green string is for Gaius, the blue is for Merlin."

Balinor nodded and took the letters, slipping them into his pack. "I'll be careful, Hunith," he said quietly, looking her in the eyes to ensure she knew he meant it.

"I know," she said softly, sighing. "But I can't help but worry."

He gave her a small smile. "I know." Then he took her in his arms.

"I'll take care of him," he told her, resting his chin on top of her head. Somewhere in the village, a rooster crowed.

Hunith pulled away, smiling at him, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. She nodded, unable to speak. After swallowing several times, she managed a, "Good luck."

"You, too," he said, squeezing her shoulder.

"Write me when you get there," she said.

"I will. Good bye, Hunith."=

"Good bye."

Balinor adjusted his pack on his shoulder, turned, and walked away.

He did not look back.

-Merlin-

Within an hour, Balinor crossed the border into Camelot. He walked steadily, his mind far from his journey.

Balinor could not imagine what it would have been like to grow up without a father. His father had always been there, to guide and teach him, all throughout his childhood and into adulthood. He had been nearly thirty when his father died. (1) Much of who he was had been shaped by his father. He had learned everything about magic, about dragons, and about the dragonlord he must be from the man. Merlin had had no one- no one to teach him to control his magic, or about the position he would one day hold. He probably did not even know what a dragonlord was.

_What if he hates me? _thought Balinor. After all, he had been absent all this time; he could not say he would blame the boy if he did. Guilt gnawed at his heart.

He was determined to do his best to make up for it.

-Merlin-

By the end of the day, Balinor was, he estimated, a little over halfway to Camelot. He made camp for the night, eating the provisions Hunith had given him. He was nearly out already- she had given him all she could spare, but it had been a hard year in Ealdor and it was not much, and Balinor was a large man who needed a lot of food to sustain him. He would have to go hunting tomorrow.

The next morning, he was awake before the sun, eager to be on his way to Camelot. He hoped to reach it in time to actually go into the city and meet his son.

_I could meet my son today._

The thought gave him extra energy, spurring him on to skip breaks and rests, and go at a faster pace than usual.

About midday, his eyes, trained from years of living in the wild, caught sight of a rabbit quivering in the shelter of several moss-covered boulder.

Balinor glanced around quickly- there was no one in sight. "_Swilte déor,_" he murmured, his eyes flashing gold. (2) The rabbit crumpled against the ground. He stepped forward and picked it up, and, as he did so, the sound of voices and horses' hooves met his ears.

Years of being hunted had made Balinor wary, and he quickly slid behind the rock, his leg underneath his body in an uncomfortable position and his beard snagging in the moss. However, he did not dare move, as now the riders came around a bend and into sight.

Balinor was glad he had hidden; the two riders were a knight of Camelot, recognizable by his red cloak, and a servant. Uther punished poachers severely. (3)

The knight was young and rather handsome, in his early twenties, with blond hair and a confident, almost arrogant air about him that was all too common among the nobility. He wore chain mail and the Camelot red cloak.

The servant was younger, in his late teens, probably, with dark hair and large, protruding ears. He wore a red shirt with a brown jacket and an absurd blue neckerchief. He was carrying a bulky crossbow and arrows as he rode and looking most uncomfortable.

"...haven't caught anything _all _morning," the knight was complaining. "And it's all _your _fault."

"_My_ fault?" repeated the servant, shocked and affronted.

_The idiot is going to be out of a job by the end of the day, _thought Balinor. _What's he thinking, talking to a noble like that?_

To Balinor's surprise, rather than rebuking him for his insolence, the knight rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, _your fault_. If you hadn't been tripping over your own feet and making such a racket, perhaps I would have actually caught something."

"Or perhaps it was fate intervening to save the life of the poor innocent animals," said the servant, a smile playing on his lips. Balinor realized, with a shock, that the boy was joking with his master.

_No, _thought Balinor, _the idiot's not going to be fired. He's going to be killed._

Yet still, the knight did not scold his servant, but rolled his eyes again and said, "Honestly, you're such a-"

At that very moment, the pain in Balinor's cramped leg went from uncomfortable to unbearable, and he shifted his position as quietly as possible. Unfortunately, the dead rabbit swung with his movement, hitting a small stone wedged between two boulders. The stone fell, hitting the rock below it with a loud _smack_.

Immediately the riders stiffened, and their gazes snapped to the boulders.

The knight breathed something.

The servant's eyes widened, his face clearly saying, _Me_?

The knight muttered something and rolled his eyes, then held out his hand. The servant, leaning towards him, handed him the crossbow and arrows, then dismounted. The knight loaded an arrow and aimed toward the boulders, while the servant made for the rocks on foot.

Too late, Balinor realized what was happening. The servant was going to see him, with the dead rabbit in his hands. He would be arrested for poaching and brought before the king, who would recognize him. Balinor would burn or hang before even getting a chance to meet his son. He tried desperately to think of a plan, but his mind went blank and nothing occurred to him.

And then the servant had rounded the rocks and was standing before him, eyeing first him, and then the dead rabbit, looking slightly shocked.

And then he opened his mouth to call to the knight. Balinor shook his head in despair. No, no, _no_, this couldn't be happening, not after everything he had survived, not when he was so close to meeting his son!

And then the boy called, "There's nothing here. Must have been a loose rock."

Balinor stared at the young man in shock. A quick smile crossed the boy's face, and then he was gone.

"Let's go," he heard the knight call. "There's usually some game deeper in the forest."

"What?" said the servant. The horses began to trot again. "Aren't we going to stop for lunch?"

"Don't be such a girl, Merlin," said the knight. He said something else, but by now his voice had faded in the distance, and the dragonlord could no longer make out the words.

Balinor felt as though his heart had frozen. _Merlin. The servant's name is Merlin._

_That boy was my son.  
_

_-_Merlin-

(1) According to Merlin Wiki, Balinor's father probably died in the Great Purge. I estimate Balinor to be in his late forties, making him nearly thirty when his father died.

(2) The words are Old English and mean, "Kill the beast." Merlin uses it in _The Labyrinth of Gedref _to kill the rat.

(3) There was no mention of only nobles being allowed to kill wild animals in the show, but, since it was the law in most places in the Middle Ages, I thought it was safe to assume it was the law in Camelot.

**A/N: So... I'm going to be honest... I don't know where I'm going with this. I have two ideas right now. Please read them and then tell me which one you would prefer (or if you would like me to do both, which I'd be happy to try)! I'm leaning a bit more towards the first, but I'm happy to do the second as well!**

**1) After the next chapter, in which Balinor and Merlin really meet, I would do a series of one-shots about Balinor in Camelot, including AUs of the rest of Season 2.**

**2) A longer fic about how Balinor and Merlin have to go on a journey together to defeat some threat to Camelot/Arthur/Uther while barely knowing each other. Sorry, this idea's still pretty vague.**

**3) Both! xD**

**What did you guys think of this chapter, and where do you think I should take this story? Please let me know!**

**-battlemaiden =)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So... the result of the vote is... both! xD I've decided to do number one on this story, so, after this chapter, I'll start the oneshots. The other story will be posted separately. I'll let you know when I post it, but it might be a little while since I have to do lots of planning for it and I've started school and will be starting college applications soon (which will probably affect the updates on this story too). I will try to start working on it this weekend, though. =)**

**yay and Guest, thanks for your reviews!**

**I have 56 followers, 26 favorites, and 32 reviews. You guys are so amazing! I love you all! If you were here with me, I would bake you all cookies! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. Nor did I own it when I wrote the first two chapters.**

Chapter 3

Balinor wanted to spring from his hiding place and dash after them. He wanted to run after the riders and call out to them, call out to his son, see him turn around and look at him, and tell the boy that he was his father. He wanted to cry his son's name until he came back.

But he did none of those things. He simply waited until he was sure the riders would not suddenly reappear, then drew his knife and began to skin the rabbit. After that task was completed, he built a fire and roasted the meat, then ate slowly as he walked, thinking.

He thought about many things as he went- about the day he met Hunith, about the day he saw his first dragon, about the day he had left Hunith, thinking he would never see her again, about the day his father had died in his arms and he had sworn to eternally hate the Pendragon line. But mostly, he thought about his son. He thought about their meeting, analyzing every moment, every aspect of it, commiting to memory every feature of Merlin's face, the way he spoke, his voice, his clothing. He compared the boy to his parents, and was pleased to see himself in Merlin's height, dark hair, and irreverence for nobility. He could see Hunith in his son's slim stature, gentle facial features, and compassionate nature. Merlin's bright blue eyes, however, came from neither of his dark-eyed parents, but from Balinor's father (1)- a fact that Balinor somehow found even more pleasing than Merlin's similarities to himself.

Balinor found himself thinking of their upcoming meeting, when he would reveal himself to the boy. Different scenarios played out in his head. Many ended happily, but many more ended in Merlin's face contorting in anger and hurt before ordering, sometimes begging, him to leave. Balinor was haunted by those images, but he refused to put them out of his mind. Merlin might very well react in that way, and if he did, Balinor wanted to be prepared. Even if he did not, Balinor's guilt was somewhat assuaged by the torment he was putting himself through.

It was about an hour before sundown when the city of Camelot came into view.

Balinor's strength had previously been flagging but, upon seeing the city, he found new energy and picked up his pace.

He made it into the gates a few minutes before sundown, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Had he been much longer, the gates would have closed for the night, and he would have had to camp outside Camelot, waiting another day to really meet his son when the boy was so close. (2)

Balinor made his way slowly through the lower town. The day's work had just finished, and everyone was trying to get either home or to a tavern. By the time he reached the castle, the last light had vanished from the sky and the moon was rising.

The dragonlord studied the castle guards and, taking a deep breath, steeled himself and walked right up to the men he had been running from for the past twenty years.

"Excuse me, where can I find Gaius, the court physician?"

One of the guards, a short, rather chubby, man, narrowed his eyes and said suspiciously, in a manner probably meant to be intimidating but that came across as rather ludicrous, "What's your business with him?"

"I'm an old friend of his," replied Balinor steadily, keeping his eyes on the other man and his hands still. "I had business in Camelot and wanted to pay him a visit."

The guards exchanged incredulous looks. "I'm sorry," said the first guard's companion, a thin man with weak, watery eyes who did not sound at all sorry, "but we'll have to check with him. What's your name?"

Balinor hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Dracagend." (3) The men would not recognize the words, taken from the language of the Old Religion, but Gaius would.

The thin man nodded, then said to his companion, "Go check with the physician."

His companion did not look pleased about being ordered about so, but did not protest, merely hurrying away as fast as his short legs could carry him.

_If these are Camelot's finest, _thought Balinor, _it's a wonder the city did not fall years ago._

Time seemed to stretch on forever. An awkward silence settled between the dragonlord and the guard, who was watching Balinor suspiciously out of the corner of his eye and pretending not to. with little success.

Finally, the other guard came puffing back. "He's telling the truth," he gasped. "The physician recognized the name at once."

Balinor breathed a silent sigh of relief, and listened as the thin guard reluctantly gave him directions to Gaius' quarters.

His heart hammered in his chest as he hurried down the corridors of Camelot. He was about to meet, _really _meet, his son. He was so anxious and yet eager that, when he reached the physician's chambers, it was at least thirty seconds before he was able to summon the courage to knock.

"Come in," called a voice.

Balinor swallowed and pushed open the rickety door. As soon as he was inside, an old man that Balinor was startled to realize was Gaius shut the door and hissed, "Are you mad, Balinor? What are you doing here? I did not help you escape Camelot just so you could come back and get yourself killed!"

"Gaius," said Balinor, still in shock from how much his friend had aged, "it's good to see you."

Gaius' eyebrow went up in a familiar expression. "It's dangerous for you here, Balinor."

"As it is for Merlin."

Gaius froze in shock, then said, "Hunith told you, then?"

Balinor nodded.

"I should have known," he murmured.

"Where is he, Gaius?" said Balinor, embarrassment washing over him when his voice cracked on the last word.

"He's out on a hunting trip with Arthur," said Gaius, his eyebrow still raised. Balinor wondered absently, as he had many times before, if one day the man's eyebrow would be stuck there. "He won't be back for a few days. A time which I suggest you take to leave."

Balinor's heart sank. He should have known Merlin would not be here- he had seen him riding away from Camelot, after all, and had not passed him since. _At least you got to see him today, _he told himself. Then Gaius' last words struck him. "Leave? Why would I do that?"

Gaius' eyebrow seemed to rise even higher, if that were possible. "Because you're endangering yourself, and Merlin, by being here!"

"Gaius, I will not tell anyone he is my son," said Balinor as patiently as he could manage. "I would never put him in danger. As for myself... I was living in a cave, all alone, convinced I was the last of my kind and that there was nothing left for me in this world. And now I find out I have a son, a son who has lived without a father for nineteen years. I could not leave him now. I would rather meet him and die than live twenty more years alone."

Gaius sighed, and the eyebrow slowly began to descend. "Very well. But you can't stay here."

"I won't," Balinor assured him. "I will get myself a room at the inn until I can find somewhere to work."

Gaius nodded, his eyebrow now resting immediately above his eye again. The entire time the two men had been standing in the middle of the room, and now Gaius said, "Sit down. You must be hungry. I was just making some supper."

"Thank you," said Balinor, seating himself carefully on the narrow, fragile-looking bench at the table. "You don't think anyone will recognize me, do you?"

Gaius eyed the other man's beard somewhat disdainfully as he bent over a pot. "No, I think not."

Balinor felt a smile lifting his lips. It seemed he had been smiling more in the past two days than he had been for the past twenty years, and it struck him how much he had missed human company.

"So," said Gaius, setting down a bowl of liquid with unidentifiable lumps floating in it before the younger man, "what have you been doing the past twenty years?"

Balinor frowned, raising the spoon cautiously to his lips, remembering Gaius' infamous cooking. "Hiding." He sipped a bit of the liquid and barely managed to stifle a groan of disgust.

Gaius raised an eyebrow but merely said, "But I suppose you don't want to talk about yourself. You want to hear about Merlin."

Balinor raised his head, glad for an excuse to avoid eating any more of the soup. "Of course I do."

Gaius smiled and began to talk, spinning a tale of dragons, kings, and myths as old as time itself.

-Merlin-

By the time Gaius finished speaking, it was nearly midnight. The physician sighed. "I hope it's not too late for you to get a room tonight."

Balinor frowned and shook his head. "No, taverns are usually open well into the wee hours. I should be able to find something." He rose, stretching his stiff muscles. "Good night, Gaius. And thank you."

Gaius gave him a weary smile. "You're welcome, old friend. I will let you know when Merlin comes back."

-Merlin-

It was two days before Balinor received word from Gaius. Two days of searching for work, more as a distraction than anything else. Two days of anxious wondering and worrying and frequently remembering the first meeting.

Balinor had just plodded back into the tavern, weary of a long day's fruitless job searching, when the innkeeper called out, "Hey, Dracagend."

Balinor raised his head. He was beginning to respond to the name now.

"You have a message from the court physician."

Balinor felt his energy return to him in a rush. "What does he say?"

"He just said you might want to pay him a visit," said the portly man with a frown. "What did he mean by-"

But the dragonlord was long gone.

-Merlin-

Balinor's heart was thumping so hard in his chest that it ached. His palms were sweating profusely, and his breathing was unnaturally loud and quick. This was it. The time was finally here. _He was going to meet Merlin. He was going to meet his son. _He wiped his hands on his trousers, took a deep breath, and raised his hand to knock, but paused when he heard voices.

"...keep making that face?" That was not Gaius. _Merlin._

"What face?" That was Gaius, his voice sounding suspiciously innocent.

"That face you always make when you're about to tell me something you know I won't want to hear."

"I am not," protested Gaius, far too weakly to be believable.

There was a sigh, then the sound of a metal hitting wood, followed by another sigh. After a moment, Gaius cried out, "Oi! What have I told you about using your gifts like that? What if someone was outside the door?"

Balinor chose that moment to knock.

There was a moment of silence, then Gaius called out, the tremor in his voice obvious, "Come in!"

Balinor opened the door and stepped inside.

Merlin was sitting where he had sat two nights ago, in front of a steaming bowl of soup, his eyes wide with fright. Gaius' face was wrinkled with worry, but upon seeing Balinor, he relaxed. Balinor realized that Gaius' bowl did not appear nearly as hot as Merlin's.

"Merlin," said Gaius, "why don't you entertain our guest? He's an old friend of mine. I have some errands to run."

Merlin's mouth dropped open in shock, and he cried, "What? Gaius-"

But the old man was already gone.

Merlin glanced at Balinor, who was suddenly at a loss for words. "You're that poacher from the hunting trip," he said, recognition dawning on his face.

"Yes," said Balinor, his voice hoarse. "Thank you for saving my life."

Merlin's eyebrows rose. "Oh, Uther's not _that _harsh."

Balinor was silent, his jaw working. He had gone over this scene so many times in his head, but now that he was here, staring at his son, he could not find words.

"Oh," said Merlin, looking a little embarrassed. He held out his hand. "I'm Merlin."

"Balinor," said the dragonlord carefully, gripping the boy's slender hand. He watched the warlock's face carefully, but the young man showed no sign of recognition at the name.

Merlin nodded, looking a little awkward. "So, do you, uh, want something to eat?"

"Gaius' cooking?" said Balinor, raising his eyebrows.

A surprised laugh escaped Merlin's lips. "You've tasted it too? No, it's mine."

"Oh." Balinor was surprised- he had no idea the boy cooked. "Well, yes, then."

"Ok," said Merlin, grinning. "I'll just... grab a bowl." He turned toward the cabinet, then stumbled over air and fell to the floor.

Balinor surged forward and gripped the boy's shoulder, helping him up. "Are you all right?"

Merlin coughed, looking embarrassed. "Uh... yeah." He glanced uncomfortably at Balinor's hand, and Balinor quickly removed it. "I'll just... get that bowl," he muttered, running his hand through his hair, not meeting Balinor's eye. He turned away again, but Balinor stopped him with a gentle, "Merlin."

Merlin turned back to face him, looking slightly confused.

"There's... something I have to tell you."

"Yes?"

"I just came from Ealdor..."

All the color drained from Merlin's face. "My mother? Is she all right? What's happened?" he all but cried out.

"She's fine," Balinor assured him. "She's in perfect health."

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed.

"Merlin..." said Balinor, swallowing nervously. How was he to say this?

"Yes?" prompted Merlin, a hint of impatience in his voice.

"Twenty years ago, during the Great Purge, Uther was hunting me," he said, his words so rushed together that they were barely comprehensible. "I...I took shelter in Ealdor, with a woman. Your mother. I... we..." I stumbled over my words, watching Merlin's face slowly grow suspicious as he guessed what I was going to say. "Merlin... I'm your father."

Merlin stared at him, unmoving, for what felt an eternity, his eyes wide, his mouth open in shock. "I..." he began, shaking his head. "I don't..." He ran trembling hands through his hair and sat down hard on the bench. He stared up at the dragonlord, and whispered, "My father?"

Balinor managed to nod.

Merlin sat in shock for a moment, then suddenly cried out, "_Where were you_?" His disbelief had vanished, replaced by hurt and anger. The older man comforted himself with the thought that at least he had not yet asked him to leave.

"I..." He sighed and shook his head, then sat down across from the boy. "Merlin, I didn't know. I had no idea I even had a son until two days ago."

"But my mother..."

"...had already been put in enough danger," he said. "I was the last of my kind. Uther was hunting me down like an animal. I could not ask her to come with me, nor could I stay."

"Then how did you know about me?" he said, his anger fading to be replaced with curiousity and something that looked like longing.

"I was weak," Balinor admitted. "I had to know what happened to your mother. So I journeyed to Ealdor... just to see her. I was not going to stay; I just wanted to know. But then she told me about you- and I have to say, though I hate myself for being weak... I've never been so glad of it in my life."

Merlin swallowed, then whispered, "Why did no one ever tell me?"

Balinor shook his head slowly. "I don't know. I assume they wanted to protect you."

"Protect me? From _what? _Knowing who my father is? Knowing who _I _am? All my life, I..." His voice trailed off, and he put a shaking hand over his mouth.

"You wanted to meet me," Balinor murmured quietly, feeling hope rise in his heart.

Merlin was taken aback. "Of course I did."

"That would have been incredibly dangerous," the dragonlord pointed out.

"So is my entire life," the boy muttered. He raised his head, gazing at his father curiously, hope gleaming in his eyes. "You... you said Uther was hunting you. Why?"

Balinor sighed. "Merlin... do you know what a dragonlord is?"

Puzzlement crossed the boy's features. "No."

Balinor felt a smile lift his lips. "My boy," he murmured, the words falling so naturally from his lips, it felt like he had been saying them all nineteen years. "We have so much to talk about..."

-Merlin-

**(1) I googled some pictures to double-check... both Balinor and Hunith had brown eyes. I have no idea what eye color Balinor's father had, though; I'm taking a bit of creative license here xD**

**(2) They never said they closed the gates for the night in the show, but since most cities at the time did, and since everyone going in/out of the city at night in the show is shown sneaking in/out, I figured they did.**

**(3) A combination of the Old English **_**draca **_**(dragon) and **_**agend **_**(lord, master). I know, it's lame. And weird. xD**

**A/N: I felt that was a good place to end, since the rest of that conversation they kind of already had in **_**The Last Dragonlord.**_

**So... what did you guys think? Did you like their first meeting? Was anyone OOC? Please review... and be honest! I don't mind criticism, it helps me get better! xD**

**Let the oneshots begin! I don't have inspiration for too many... if anyone has any prompts or anything they want to see, I'll do it! =) (unless it's slash, I don't write slash) Please let me know if there's anything you want to see!**

**Oh, wow, I'm really going overboard with those smilies and exclamation points, aren't I?**

**Oh, sorry, I have one more question: I'm going to do the Lady of the Lake next. Do people want Freya to live or stay dead? Please let me know! =)**

**-battlemaiden**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I cannot believe you guys' amazingness. It astounds me. The response I have received for this story is wonderful... just wonderful! =) Thank you all so, so much!**

**So... the result of the Freya vote is... well, you'll see. xD Although I already told some people...**

**By the way... what does BAMF stand for? I've always wondered...**

**Oh, and - fun fact of the day! **_**Ealdor **_**is actually an Old English word meaning "parent." xD**

**Sorry, I know this one's a bit short. But... good news! I know what I'm doing for the longer story, so that should be up any day now, unless I suddenly decide to do a different plot, which isn't likely xD. I'm pretty excited for it! Keep an eye out for it! It'll probably be called either****Claíomh Solais ****or __****Claidheamh Soluis ****(which is Irish, btw).**

**Ok... for this oneshot... it was hijacked. By my fingers. My brain's going, "Wait, that's not what I planned!" Anyways... xD**

**Pairings: Freylin, of course. A tiny bit of Balinor/Hunith**

**Warnings: A very taxing spell... xD**

**Rating: K+, or maybe T**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin... this would not be fanfiction if I did.**

Chapter 4

Balinor jumped as loud, insistent knocking sounded on his door. He sighed and set down his carving, which now had a cut it was not supposed to, on the table.

It had been a month since Balinor had first met his son, and in that time, Balinor had found a job selling his carvings in the marketplace and was boarding with a family in the lower town. He had his own room, furnished with a table, two chairs, and a cot.

"Come in," he called.

The door was shoved open and Gaius stormed in.

"Gaius!" cried Balinor in surprise, rising from his seat, anxiety rising in his chest. It had been several days since he had heard from Merlin, and the warning bells had been ringing last night, probably over the Bastet creature that had been terrorizing the city. What if something had happened to his son? "What's going on?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Gaius replied anxiously. "Have you seen Merlin?"

Balinor's heart sank. "No," he murmured, sitting back down "Gaius, what's going on? What's happened?"

Gaius sighed and sat down in the room's only other chair- the one Merlin usually sat in when he visited his father. "Merlin was the one who released the druid girl," he said.

Balinor could not help the small smile that lifted his lips at that. He had known the boy only a month, but already he could tell that that was exactly like something Merlin would do. "I should have known."

"I think he was quite taken by her. That was, of course, before he knew what she was. I told him yesterday, and he was devastated, yet he still insisted it was not her fault. Last night, when the bells started to ring, he ran out of the house to find her. I haven't seen him since."

"Oh, gods," whispered Balinor, shaking his head. "She'll kill him."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Gaius murmured. "I don't know what to do."

"Where was he hiding her?"

"I don't know," Gaius confessed. "He wouldn't tell me."

Balinor slammed his fist on the table. "You have no idea where he might be hiding her?"

"None," said Gaius. "I was hoping you would."

Balinor shook his head. "I haven't seen him since this all started." He slammed his fist on the table again, just as the door crashed open and Merlin stumbled in, a girl in his arms.

"Merlin!" cried Balinor and Gaius, rising. The boy was cradling the girl in his arms, and there was blood all over them.

"Gaius, Father, you have to help her!" Merlin sobbed desperately.

"Merlin, what happened?" demanded Gaius.

"Are you alright?" Balinor said, his voice rough as he surveyed the blood.

"I'm fine, please, you have to help her!" He laid the girl down on Balinor's table. "Please, Father!" he pleaded. "I can't heal her!"

Balinor hesitated. "Merlin, she's dangerous."

"I don't care!" the boy wailed. "Please, Father!" There were tears streaming down his cheeks, and his voice was choked with desperation. "Please," he whispered.

Balinor sighed and nodded grimly. "I'll do my best."

"No," Gaius interjected. "You can't help her."

"What? Why not?" cried Merlin.

"I told you, Merlin, she's cursed. She is neither living nor dead. A healing spell will not save her."

"Then what _will_?"

"You have to free her from the curse. Then you can use the healing spell."

Balinor's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What? But you said this was an ancient and powerful curse."

"But it was made by a human," Gaius pointed out. "And no human is as powerful as Merlin. But it is a dangerous spell, and one that requires an assistant to lend their magic, in case the caster should fail."

"Merlin..." said Balinor quietly. "Don't do this. I have seen spells like this before. It could drain your magic, killing you."

Merlin shook his head. "I can't let her die," he whispered.

Balinor opened his mouth to protest, and then thought of Hunith, and of how, even only a few days after he met her, he would have risked everything just to see her smile. He could not take the girl Merlin loved from him. "Then I will assist you," Balinor said firmly, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Surprise flashed across his son's features. "Thank you," he murmured.

Gaius was watching his ward with stricken eyes, but he merely said, "The spell is, _Berstan þone curs; ágief híe mennisce._" (1)

Merlin nodded grimly, and laid his hands on either side of Freya's head. Balinor laid a hand on his son's shoulder and, reaching down inside himself, channeled his magic into the boy. "_Berstan þone curs; ágief híe mennisce,_" whispered Merlin, his eyes glowing for a moment before fading back to normal.

He stood over Freya, his eyes closed, letting the magic flow into her. Then the boy's breathing began to pick up, and sweat formed on his brow. Soon he was gasping for air, his face contorted in pain, perspiration pouring from him. The shirt under Balinor's palm was soaked.

Suddenly, the dragonlord's son threw back his head and wailed at the top of his lungs. His eyes snapped open, revealing glowing golden orbs. Balinor could feel his magic draining into the boy, trying to sustain the spell.

"Gaius, what's happening?" he cried out in panic, his voice barely audible over his son's screams.

"I don't know!" the old man cried.

"We have to stop the spell!"

"We can't! Once a spell is begun, it must be completed. If the caster does not have the energy, his life force will drain out." (2)

Balinor shook his head in desperation. He could feel his own energy depleting quickly. If he felt this way, he dared not think what Merlin was experiencing.

Suddenly Merlin's hands glowed the golden color of magic, and Balinor and Gaius watched in wonder as the light slid from his hands into Freya's body. She sucked in a huge breath, her back arching, her face twisting in pain, as her wails joined Merlin's.

Then, all of a sudden, the light vanished, and Merlin collapsed against the druid. Both lay completely still.

"Gaius?" whispered Balinor, his voice trembling in the sudden quiet. Hand shaking, he pressed his fingers to Merlin's throat. A sudden sob escaped his lips as he felt the slow, but steady, beat against his skin. He stifled the sob in embarrassment, but Gaius was leaning over with his ear to Merlin's lips and did not seem to have heard.

"He's breathing," Gaius announced, relief washing over his features.

Balinor let out a shaky sigh and sat down in his chair. "The girl?" he managed.

Gaius was already checking her vitals. "She's alive, but won't be for much longer if we don't do something about her wound."

Balinor started in surprise- he had completely forgotten her wound in the excitement. "Is the curse broken, then?"

Gaius nodded, pride shining in his face. "Merlin did it."

Balinor was certain he was wearing the same expression. Standing, he bent over his son and gathered him into his arms. He carried the boy over to his cot and gently laid him down, then rested his hand on the boy's head, stroking his hair affectionately. "When will he wake?"

"I don't know," said Gaius. "I'm sure he's very weak right now. It could be several days."

"But he'll be all right?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't be." Gaius shook his head fondly. "Idiot."

Balinor smiled and rose to his feet, then made his way over to Freya. Laying his hand on her forehead, he closed his eyes and whispered a spell.

-Merlin-

Two days later, Freya's eyes opened and filled with tears as she realized she was alive, really and truly.

Two days after that, Merlin's eyes opened. The first thing he saw was his father, smiling down at him.

"Did we do it?" he whispered.

Balinor beamed at him. "Yes, Merlin. We did it. _You _did it."

Then Freya stepped into view. "Hello, Merlin," she whispered.

And then it was Merlin's eyes filling with tears.

**(1) Break the curse; return her humanity.**

**(2) Yes, I did totally steal that from Eragon.**

**A/N: Well, what did you think? I hope it was to your satisfaction... Please let me know! Criticism is welcome, I want to get better!**

**We will probably see more of Freya later on. I know I didn't explain what happened to her- whether or not she stayed in Camelot, but I felt that was a good place to end. I'll let you know more about that later. I know I also didn't do much romance between her and Merlin, but 1) this is an AU of that specific episode; any romantic scenes would have happened later, and 2) it's from Balinor's POV, and Merlin doesn't exactly want to have his romantic moments around his dad. xD**

**I also know this one wasn't very Balinor/Merlin centric (NOT Balinor/Merlin as in a pairing!), but then, I didn't really see how it could be.**

**By the way, does anyone have any prompts? I'm going to be doing oneshots that aren't AUs or tags to episodes, as you can see below, if anyone has any ideas for one. I'd love to get some ideas! =)**

**Next up (unless I'm given a prompt that carries me away xD): Arthur accidentally injures Merlin, and Balinor lets Arthur know exactly how he feels about it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I know the summary says that next up is "One conversation Merlin enjoyed... and one he didn't." I was going to do that one instead of the one I originally said I would do, but then I changed my mind. That one will be next.**

**The longer fic is published! It's called **_**Claíomh Solais**_**, for those of you who haven't seen it yet. I'll probably go back and edit the first chapter today, because I slapped it down yesterday and it could probably use some improvement. Typical me. xD**

**I just wanted to give a special thanks to monkey76 for being the 100th follower of this story... you guys are so awesome, I could cry. =) =) =) Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited this story!**

**In response to guest reviews...**

**MerlinLover: Thanks! =)**

**Me: I love that idea! I'll definitely write a chapter about that. =) Thanks!**

**Guest: Aww thanks! I'm glad you liked it. =)**

**yay: Yay indeed! xD I'm happy for Merlin haha =)**

**Rating: K+, I think**

**Pairings: A teensy little bit of Freylin. But don't worry. Lots next chapter xD**

**Summary: When Arthur accidentally injures Merlin, Balinor lets him know exactly how he feels about it.**

**Some people said they wanted more Freya, so I put her in the beginning for you guys. =)  
**

Chapter 5

The night air was cool and heavy in anticipation of a coming storm. Moon and stars were obscured by clouds, resulting in a dreary, utterly dark night.

However, deep in the Darkling woods, a small light, produced by magic, glinted in a clearing, hovering over the heads of those there.

Then a far brighter light lit up the night as a blast of fire escaped from Balinor's hands, aimed straight at his son.

It never reached the boy, though, but was intercepted by magic. The blast continued for an entire minute, but the shield never wavered, nor did Merlin show any sign of tiring.

"Very good," Balinor said, closing his hands and shutting off the fire The people in the clearing blinked as their eyes readjusted to the dim light. "Your shields are excellent."

"They have to be," grumbled Merlin, "with that stupid lizard trying to incinerate me." (1)

Balinor grimaced. He had been enraged upon hearing of that particular incident and had had a talk with Kilgharrah about it immediately after. The dragon had spouted some drivel about destiny and the world needing Merlin, which had not pleased Balinor at all. In the end, he had ordered the dragon to never attempt to harm Merlin unless Balinor expressly told him to do so.

"Well," he said, shoving that unpleasant thought out of his mind, "what if you were being attacked on two sides?"

"How are you going to attack me like that?" Merlin said.

"Freya will help me."

The girl, who had previously been sitting in the shadows watching the training, looked alarmed. "No, she won't! I might hurt him!"

Merlin appeared somewhat wounded by her lack of confidence in him, but said nothing.

Balinor sighed and walked over to her, then said something in a low voice. After a moment, her face lit up in understanding and she nodded.

"I'll help," she said, smiling at Merlin's astonished expression. Rising to her feet, she hurried behind Merlin, while Balinor walked in front of the boy. "You ready?"

Merlin sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be."

-Merlin-

"So what made you change your mind?" Balinor had finally granted the exhausted warlock a break, and Merlin and Freya were sitting together at the edge of the clearing.

"I can't tell you that," said Freya, trying with little success to not smirk.

Merlin opened his mouth to retort, but just then Balinor threw a wooden sword into his lap.

"What's that for?" exclaimed Merlin. "Why do I need a sword?"

"For when you're fighting around Arthur or someone else you cannot use your magic around."

Merlin sighed. "I don't need a sword."

"How do you defend him, then?"

"Hide behind a tree or rock and use my magic," replied Merlin wryly. "He calls me a coward, but it's effective."

"Not good enough," pronounced Balinor. "There may be a time in which you have no choice but to fight with the sword."

Merlin groaned. "Arthur already lets me know _every single day _how bad I am at hand-to-hand combat. Do you have to do it too?"

"Yes," replied Balinor, frowning at his son.

Groaning, Merlin rose to his feet, gripping the sword tightly in his right hand.

"You're holding it too tightly," Balinor told the boy. "If you hold it that tightly, it will jar your hand when it's hit."

Merlin adjusted his grip.

"Good," said Balinor. "Now, defend yourself." He attacked.

It only took a few seconds for Balinor to disarm the boy and lightly tap his blade against his ribs. Merlin yelped and stumbled slightly.

Balinor was taken aback. He had not known his son for long, but he had known him long enough to know that he was neither a wimp nor a coward, and it had been a light tap. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as the young man picked up the sword, wincing.

"Merlin, take off your shirt," he instructed suddenly.

"W-what?" stammered the boy.

"Take it off."

"But..." He glanced uneasily at Freya.

"Oh. I'll, um, go... find some water to fill up the skin," she said quickly, blushing. Hurriedly she picked up the still half-full water skin and almost ran out of the clearing.

"Now do it," Balinor told his son.

Merlin looked none too pleased about it, but he apparently could see he was not going to win this argument. With a sigh, he removed his jacket and neckerchief, setting them carefully on the ground, before lifting his shirt to reveal a torso discoloured with bruises and contusions.

Balinor's eyes widened slightly, then he surged forward and touched the boy's ribs. Merlin stumbled back with a yelp of, "What was that for?"

"Checking for broken ribs," the dragonlord muttered.

"There aren't any," mumbled Merlin, his face a bright red as he tied his neckerchief on.

"How do you know?"

"I live with Gaius," the boy replied drily, wincing as he struggled back into his jacket. Balinor considered helping him, but knew the boy would only be further embarrassed by the gesture.

"Merlin, how did this happen?"

"Oh, I, uh, fell down some stairs," his son mumbled, not meeting his eyes, his fingers picking at his shirt.

"You're a terrible liar," the dragonlord said sternly.

Merlin's cheeks, which had been paling, turned red again. "Well, I..."

"Someone did this to you, didn't they?" Balinor said quietly, feeling rage boil up inside him. Someone had _dared _to do this to his son, and they were going to _pay for it_.

"No," the young man replied quickly. Too quickly.

"Merlin," Balinor fixed him with a stern gaze. "Who did this?"

Merlin shrugged, looking as though he wished the earth would suddenly open up beneath his feet and take him far, far away.

"Merlin, why are you protecting..." the man began, and it hit him with the word _protect_. "Oh. Arthur did this to you, didn't he?"

The boy's eyes widened in panic as Balinor's face blackened with fury. "It was an accident! He didn't mean to hurt me, it just happened during training!" Seeing that his father did not looked at all appeased, he cried out, "It's alright, I'm used to it."

That was not the right thing to say. Balinor, if possible, looked even more enraged than before.

"Father, please..." said the boy weakly.

The dragonlord sighed. "Come on, Merlin. Let's get you to Gaius."

-Merlin-

Merlin had told him repeatedly not to say anything to Arthur.

For once, Balinor did not care what Merlin had to say. The boy was too kind for his own good.

The dragonlord was furious. Arthur had been entrusted with his son, and he had _injured _him. Not only once, but several times. And the arrogant prince did not even pay enough attention to the boy who devoted his entire life to him to know that he had hurt him.

He and Arthur were going to have words. He glanced at the sun through the window in the palace hall. Soon Arthur would be coming this way after a council meeting, and Balinor would let him know exactly what he thought.

Sure enough, Arthur rounded the corner less than five minutes later. The dragonlord stepped away from the wall and walked right up to the young man.

"A word, Sire?"

A flash of annoyance crossed the royal's face, but he quickly covered it up and said professionally, "Of course."

"It's about your manservant."

"Merlin," Arthur informed him, irritation coloring his tone, with a hint of affection underneath.

"Yes." Balinor felt his brows draw together. "He may be only a servant, but you have _no right _to treat him the way you do." He was practically snarling by the end of the sentence.

Flabbergasted, Arthur could do nothing but stare at the man before him. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"No, you don't, do you? Because you don't care."

Arthur's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to reply, but Balinor cut him off.

"And don't say you do. Don't you _dare _say you do." He stepped forward, right up to the prince, and pointed furiously at the young man. "You beat him up during training- which, I might add, is for _knights_, not servants, you give him bruises all over his body so that he can barely bend over, and then you have the nerve to deny what you've done and not even _notice _that he's injured. Do you have any_ idea_ how much the boy does for you? Do you have any idea how much you mean to him, how much he would sacrifice for you, _has _sacrificed for you? And yet you treat him like _dirt!_ Well, I'm sick of it. He isn't dirt. He is a person, the same as you are, and a better one at that, and you don't deserve him."

Somewhere in the back of Balinor's mind he was aware that he was talking far too loudly and that guards should be here at any minute, but he could not find it in himself to care.

Arthur, meanwhile, was standing in shock, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide. After a moment, he closed his mouth and muttered, "I... I had no idea that I... I... tell him that he has the day off to... recover, and that it won't happen again. I can't have my servants too injured to polish my armor."

Balinor was tempted to retort, "Is that all you care about?" but knew from Merlin and Gaius' stories that that was Arthur's attempt at covering his concern. The prince did look rather stricken, he realized. He felt his rage cooling.

"I, uh... actually, I'll tell him myself," the young man muttered, running his hand through his hair and avoiding meeting Balinor's eyes. The dragonlord could see the pain and guilt written plainly across his face. Maybe the prince was not quite so bad as he had believed.

Arthur turned to leave, then suddenly, as if it had just occurred to him, he turned around and said, "If you don't mind my asking... who are you?"

"Oh," Balinor said, searching for a suitable excuse for his outrage, "I'm a... family friend. The name's Dracagend."

"I see," said the royal, nodding. Balinor turned to go, then was stopped as Arthur called, "Dracagend."

The dragonlord turned.

"Thank you," the prince said steadily, though he looked away in embarrassment. "For bringing this to my attention."

Balinor nodded firmly. "Of course, my lord." He turned and walked away.

_Maybe Merlin does have this right, _he thought. _The prince really does care, even about his servant._

**(1) In **_**Le Morte D'Arthur**_**, after Merlin told Kilgharrah he would never set the dragon free.**

**A/N: So, what did you think? Did you like this one? Did I portray Freya and Arthur right? Please let me know, and if you have any requests, or anything you'd like to see, I'd be happy to do it!**

**Next up, as said above, in response to a prompt from rmatri540: A conversation Merlin enjoyed... and a conversation he didn't.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: My story just got added to the community "The Best of the Merlin Archive." :DDDDDD I'm so happy! xD**

**So, this oneshot's a bit different from the others. It's from Merlin's point of view, and the second conversation has no Balinor in it. =( But it does have Freya... and Arthur! xD This is actually a response to two different prompts. =) And if it's really mushy and sappy, I'm really sorry. I am a teenage girl, after all...**

**Do I have to put a disclaimer on every chapter, or just once? Because I don't own Merlin...**

**Rating: K+**

**Summary: One conversation Merlin enjoyed... and one he didn't.**

**Pairings: Freylin. Lots of Freylin.**

**Warnings: Mild romance. Arthur is... Arthur.**

**Um... think that's all. If I'm terrible at writing romance, then I'm sorry. I don't write it very much, so...**

Chapter 6

One of Merlin's favorite memories was the night that he had met his father.

They had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, talking, getting to know each other. Gaius had never appeared until the dragonlord left, giving them the privacy they needed. Merlin had a feeling that had not been a coincidence.

His mind flashed back to that night...

"Merlin, do you know what a dragonlord is?"

Merlin stared up at the man across from him, awe and shock nearly overpowering him. _This is him, _he thought. _The man I've wanted to meet all my life. This is my father. _Then he remembered the question and frowned. "No."

Balinor- _his father_- smiled gently. "My boy," he murmured, and Merlin's heart leaped in his chest at the words. "We have so much to talk about."

"Well..." Merlin said, clearing his throat as his voice grew hoarse, "do you want to... sit down?" He gestured awkwardly at the table, and Balinor nodded, still smiling slightly.

Merlin quickly fetched his father a bowl of stew, with no mishaps this time, all the while thinking how strange it was, after all these years, to be here with his father, getting him supper. He felt a burning behind his eyes and was suddenly struggling not to sob. _His father was here._ Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he sat down across from the man silently, unsure of what to do now.

Balinor sipped a tentative spoonful of stew and grinned in surprise. "This is good," he remarked. "Very good."

Merlin felt his cheeks reddening at the compliment and he shrugged, inwardly dancing with glee.

His _father _had just praised him.

Over stew. But still.

Balinor gave a laugh. "Don't repeat this," he said, "but you certainly didn't get it from your mother's side of the family."

Merlin could not resist the urge to snicker at that. He loved his mother and Gaius with all his heart, but neither of them could claim cooking as a strength.

"So... dragonlords?" he said hesitantly, hoping he had remembered the word right. It sounded intriguing, and something deep within him stirred, tugging at his heart, yearning to know more.

Balinor sighed. "Legend says that, at the beginning of time, when the world was first created, there were two races who were gifted with intelligence- Dragons and Men."

Merlin frowned. "What about the Sidhe?"

"They are not of this world," Balinor replied. "Although some men were given power to bend the earth's energy to do what they pleased, the dragons were far more powerful. The gods could see that the dragons would dominate and eventually destroy men. Not wishing such a fate on their creatures, they decided to create another race, a race made of pure magic that would serve as an mediator between the two. They were the Dragonlords. The dragonlords had the bodies of men, but, unlike men, they were creatures of magic and were bonded with the dragons. The gods made the dragons swear an unbreakable oath that they and their descendants would forever yield to the dragonlords. Since that time, dragonlords have been able to command the dragons and speak to them in their language."

"Dragons have a language?"

"Yes," replied Balinor, a small smile touching his lips. It vanished with the next words, though. "And then came the Great Purge. Uther Pendragon hunted and killed every creature of magic, including the dragons and the dragonlords. He managed to slaughter every single one of them, except one from each race."

"You and the Great Dragon," breathed Merlin. "You're a dragonlord, aren't you?"

Balinor nodded. "I am."

"Is that… why I'm so powerful?" said Merlin tentatively. "Because you're my father?"

"Merlin," Balinor said honestly, "I have spoken to Gaius about you. _No one _is as powerful as you are. I suspect you could even fight a dragon if the need arose. But yes, part of the reason for it is, I'm sure, myself."

Merlin felt a stupid smile growing on his face, but he could not bring himself to care. "That's… that's amazing!"

"You mentioned the Great Dragon," Balinor said, almost carefully. "Gaius told you of him?"

Merlin snorted and rolled his eyes. Clearly, Gaius told him very little. "No. He called me, when I first came here."

"Called you?" Balinor repeated, apparently surprised. "How?"

"In my head. Like the druids."

"For a dragon to have such a connection with anyone other than a dragonlord, and a powerful one at that, is unheard of," Balinor murmured, gazing at his son. "Of course, you are incredibly powerful, and..." He sighed and trailed off. "The power of a dragonlord is passed down from father to son," he said gently. "Upon the death of the father, the son's power is awoken. I received my power from my father, and he from his, all the way back until the dawn of time."

Merlin could do nothing but blink in surprise. "I'm... a dragonlord?"

"Not yet. But the potential is there." And then Balinor was smiling at him gently.

"What about... the Purge?" Merlin said carefully. "What happened to you?"

Balinor sighed grimly. "Before the Purge, dragonlords were revered among men because of their power and their connection to the wise dragons. My father was an advisor in the court of Constantine. After the king was assassinated, it was my father who brought Aurelius and Uther, then still very young, to Armorica to protect them. My mother and I accompanied him. We spent years there, and Uther and I grew up together and became close friends. While there, my mother gave birth to my younger brother and died soon afterwards. When Aurelius and Uther reached adulthood, we returned to Albion and reconquered Camelot. Soon afterwards, Aurelius died and Uther became king. (1) My father and I were his advisors, and my younger brother one of his two court sorcerers; he had always been the more powerful warlock of us two. The other court sorcerer was Nimueh. Gaius tells me you have met her."

Merlin squirmed slightly, remembering her body being jerked by lightning. "Yes."

Balinor sighed. "And then Ygraine died, and the Purge began. At first, Uther told my family, and all dragonlords, that if we ceased to practice magic he would spare our lives and the lives of the dragons. We believed him, trusted him, and swore to never use our magic again. And then, after he had caught nearly all the sorcerers, he suddenly attacked us. We were caught unawares. It was a massacre. My father, my brother, and I were eating supper when the door burst open and soldiers rushed in. They ran my father through before he had a chance to stand up. My brother and I were now dragonlords, and we called on the dragons to help us, but the only dragon who came to our aid was Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon. He told us that we were the last dragonlords, and he the last dragon. We escaped with him, but soon afterwards Uther sent out a message saying that he wanted to make peace with the dragons and the dragonlords. The three of us, like fools, wanted to believe that he could be redeemed and returned to Camelot. Uther took us prisoner and, saying he needed only one dragonlord, murdered my brother. Then Gaius helped me escape, telling me of Ealdor and his sister, thinking I would be safe there. So I journeyed to Ealdor, and met your mother. I lived there for a month before Uther discovered where I was and ordered his soldiers into Essetir to recapture me. I fled, and have remainded hidden in Essetir until now."

Merlin felt a wave of grief and anger at the story. He remembered the Great Dragon insisting he let Uther die, and now he truly understood why. "I'm sorry," he found himself murmuring.

Balinor gave him a small, sad smile and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I still grieve when I think of it," he said, "but I am truly thankful for what it has given me." He sighed and shook his head, letting his heaviness slip away. "So...I hear I'm not the only one with interesting stories."

**(1) Taken from Geoffrey of Monmouth's **_**History of the Kings of Britain**_**, except for the part about Balinor's family. Yes, I have actually read that book. Yes, I am aware that I am a total nerd.**

**A/N: That didn't turn out as sappy as I expected... huh**

***coughs* Yeah, about that second conversation... I know I said there would be two, but this one got long and it would probably take several more days to write the next, so I decided to make this a two-shot. However, I may update my other story first.**

**What did you guys think? Was it good? Bad? Please let me know!**

**Once again, I'd love to hear any prompts or requests people might have!**

**I'd also like to thank everyone who's favorited, followed, or reviewed this story. Ya'll are amazing! =) A special thanks to the guest reviewer who left the long one commenting on different parts of the last chapter. I loved your review! =) I had a giant smile on my face for the rest of the night (and several times the next day), and I'm sure my family thought I was going crazy.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So...**

**The plot bunnies for another fanfic story are attacking. I'm managing to keep them caged, but I'll probably succumb soon and stupidly start another fic. Just a warning. xD**

**And I know I haven't updated the other one (I don't want to type out that dreadful name) yet, but I fully intend to. I just haven't decided how to start the next chapter.**

**And, in a bit of shameless self-promotion... while you're waiting for me to update this one again, I'd love it if you checked out my other fic, **_**His Smile**_**, and let me know what you think.**

**And my disclaimer applies to ALL chapters, I'm not making any profit from this (other than my own enjoyment), so I refuse to write any more of those. I usually forget them anyways.**

**Soo... for the story!**

Merlin had enjoyed the conversation with his father, but he was certain he was not going to enjoy this one.

He had been in the courtyard, returning from the training grounds after Arthur had finished training his knights, and had caught sight of Freya running an errand for Gaius, and of course he had to stop and talk to her. Although Freya had been living with Balinor, pretending to be his daughter (a fact Balinor seemed to find hilarious- "Maybe she really will be my daughter one day!", which had embarrassed Merlin and Freya so much that they could barely look at each other for the rest of the day), she had mostly taken Merlin's place assisting Gaius during the day.

Freya had just been leaning forward to give him a kiss when Arthur's voice rang out across the courtyard.

"_Mer_lin!"

The boy groaned and closed his eyes. Of course Arthur had to come _right then_.

"_Mer_lin, what are you doing?" demanded Arthur as he approached, a smug, teasing smile lurking just behind his frown. The servant felt Freya tense beside him.

"Nothing," said Merlin quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets, trying to fight the blood he could feel rising to his cheeks, stepping in front of Freya, praying Arthur would not recognize the girl. "We were just... talking."

"I saw you, _Mer_lin," stated Arthur, scowling, folding his arms over his chest in the usual Arthur pose. (Arthur never just _said_, he _stated _or _decreed_.) "Is there a reason you're kissing girls instead of doing what I told you to?"

"We weren't kissing!" Merlin protested, his cheeks turning bright red.

"I'm sure you weren't," replied Arthur patronizingly, smirking. He turned to Freya. "You poor girl."

Freya, who had been ducking her head, obviously afraid Arthur would recognize her, blushed and opened her mouth, searching for words with no success.

"Poor Gwen, more like it," Merlin muttered under his breath.

Arthur turned toward him, eyes narrowed. "What was that?" he said, his voice low. It would have been intimidating had his cheeks not been scarlet.

"Nothing," said Merlin brightly, grabbing Freya's elbow. "We're just... going... right now..."

"Merlin!"

The boy whirled around upon hearing his name. Gwen, carrying a basket of clothes, had stopped to talk to him. "Hello, Gwen," he said cheerfully, grinning. "We were just talking about you."

Gwen raised her eyebrows. "Oh?" Then she noticed Arthur, who was looking very much like he wanted to disappear, and, flushing, quickly curtseyed, murmuring a respectful, "Sire."

"Guinevere," Arthur said, nodding, his voice hitching slightly. He ran a hand nervously through his hair.

Merlin was the one smirking now.

Gwen turned away from Arthur, pretending not to notice his eyes on her. "Ah, hello, I'm Guinevere," she said to Freya. "But you can call me Gwen."

"Freya," said the other girl, giving her a slight smile.

"Oh!" said Gwen. "Dracagend's daughter!"

"Y-yes," stammered Freya, her cheeks going red. Merlin shifted uncomfortably.

"Merlin's told me so much about you," Gwen said with a warm smile. "I'm so glad to meet you."

"Me too," said Freya, hesitantly returning the smile, some of the tenseness easing from her shoulders.

"So, are you and Merlin..." Gwen trailed off, seeing them blush, and stammered, "I'm sorry, it's none of my business; I was just curious. I mean, I shouldn't have been, but I..."

"It's alright, Gwen," said Merlin, managing a grin. He didn't think he had ever felt quite so uncomfortable in his life. "We, uh..." He glanced over at Arthur, who was watching the conversation with raised eyebrows and a poorly concealed grin.

"You what, Merlin?" he urged teasingly.

"Yeah, we are...together..." Merlin muttered, feeling his cheeks flame. Again.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" said Gwen. "You two seem so happy together. And he's a great kisser," she added, grinning at Freya, apparently having forgotten that Arthur was right there. The druid's mouth opened partially in shock, and she whirled around to glare accusingly at Merlin.

"_What_?" said Arthur, his voice deadly. There was nothing to take away the intimidation this time.

"Oh," said Gwen suddenly. "Morgana really needs these clothes... I should go... right now."

She hurried away as fast as she could without actually running, and Arthur's furious gaze turned to Merlin.

"Uh, Gaius really needs some herbs, doesn't he, Freya?"

"No, he doesn't. You can assist Arthur, Merlin. We'll talk later." Biting her lip to keep back the smile rising to her face, she quickly walked away.

Arthur glared at him, narrowing his eyes. "So... what was that about you kissing Gwen?"

"I- it was a long time ago,and _she_ kissed _me_, and-"

The prince's face turned murderous.

"...And I'm just going to run..."

Whirling around, Merlin fled for his life.

**A/N: So... what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Was it just okay? Was it funny? I hope it was...**

**Next up will be a teensy one of Gaius-introspection. I'll probably have it up in a few hours, since this one was rather short.**

**And again, many thanks to everyone who's followed, favorited and reviewed! You guys really make my day(s?) and I feel so blessed! I now have 56 favorites- special thanks to Bagel-chan for being the 50th! xD**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So, here it is, the promised (small) chapter. I don't write angst very much, so I'm not sure how this is going to be…**

**Rating: K**

**Genre: Angst**

**Warnings: Hm… a slightly dark Gaius, I suppose**

**Summary: Gaius contemplates Balinor's coming to Camelot**

Gaius loved Merlin like a son. The boy had become the family he never had to him, and was the most precious thing in his life. Which was why he was glad when Balinor came to Camelot. Merlin was finally able to meet his father, something he knew the boy had always yearned for. The young sorcerer learned things about magic he never would have been able to with just Gaius. The boy had a real family.

But, because Gaius loved Merlin, he also had moments in which he wished Balinor had never set foot in Camelot. He was sometimes shocked to find his emotions toward the dragonlord bordering on antagonism and even hatred. Because what right had he, Gaius thought, after leaving the boy for so long, to come back and take Gaius' place? It had been Gaius who helped him subdue his magic so it would not randomly burst out and have him executed. Gaius who made him understand that magic was a gift and did not make him a monster. Gaius who had helped Merlin through so many difficult times and situations with his magic. Gaius who listened to Merlin's rants about Arthur and comforted him when he was finished. Gaius who made him smile when he was depressed or afraid. Gaius who had sacrificed his life for the boy on the Isle of the Blessed. Gaius who had watched him become more powerful every day. Gaius who supported him, no matter what mistakes he made. Gaius who was willing to burn at the stake to protect the warlock. And yet it had been Balinor that Merlin went to when Freya was dying, Balinor that trained with him, Balinor that he now spent so much time with and talked to.

The boy had become Gaius' everything, the center of his world, his very reason for living.

He was all Gaius had.

And now Balinor was ripping him away, and there was nothing the old physician could do to stop it.

And so, sometimes, Gaius hated Balinor.

**A/N: Well, that turned out really depressing…. Something to balance the humor out, I suppose xD What did you guys think? How did my attempt at angst work out?**

**Yay, you should get an account… I always want to PM you for your lovely reviews, but I never can. =)**

**I haven't decided what I want to do next. You guys can vote, if you want, on which ones you want, and in which order. =) Here are the ideas (almost all of which are not mine)…**

**A tag or AU of 2.11 ****_The Witch's Quickening. _****I'd have to watch the episode again to know exactly what I want to do. (If I decide not to do that one, I'd do a tag to 2.12 ****_The Fires of Idirsholas_****, probably with lots of Merlin angst).**

**Uther learns that Balinor is in Camelot and searches for the dragonlord. Merlin is worried.**

**Merlin is dying. Lots of Balinor angst.**

**Also… do people want to be credited for their ideas/prompts/whatever? I haven't done it, but then realized I probably should. If you do, just let me know. =)**

**As always, prompts are most welcome!**

**-battlemaiden J **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I feel terrible! I'm so sorry about how long this chapter has taken me! But I've been really busy… Hopefully, the next chapter will be up a lot faster.**

**So, I rewatched 2.11, "The Witch's Quickening," to write this, and guess what? At the beginning, in the first scene with Mordred, he smirks. Mordred smirks. Now we know where Morgana gets it from…**

**And then, as if that weren't weird enough, Mordred actually talked. With his mouth. Several times. It was very strange. xD**

**I was looking at the transcript for the episode for help with writing this, and you know that council room they always have grave conversations in? (In this episode, it's where Gaius tells Uther about Alvarr's group.) It's called the Council Chamber of Doom. xp**

**Anyways, I'm doing this one first because two people asked for it. **

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Action**

**Warnings: A bit of torture. Character death.**

**Pairings: A smidgeon of Freylin. xD**

**Characters: Gaius, Balinor, Freya, Merlin, Alvarr, Mordred**

Chapter 9

Balinor was concerned, to say the least.

Late last night, Merlin had barreled into his room, stammering wildly about a crystal and Morgana and druids. After several minutes, Balinor had finally gotten a coherent explanation from Merlin- apparently two druids, one of them a boy named Mordred (who, according to Kilgharrah, was destined to kill Arthur) had stolen into the citadel and visited Morgana. Then, last night, Morgana had stolen a crystal, which was very powerful, that Kilgharrah said Morgana wouldn't have the power to wield but Mordred might. Kilgharrah also said that there were prophecies speaking of an alliance between Morgana and Mordred, and that they would bring about Arthur's downfall. Needless to say, Merlin was terrified.

Balinor had done his best to reassure the boy, and Merlin was just beginning to settle down when he happened to glance out the window and saw Morgana stealing through the shadows and decided to follow her.

Balinor had not heard from the boy since. At dawn, he had gone to speak to Gaius, but the physician had not seen Merlin since the warlock had gone to talk to the dragon.

It was now midmorning, and Balinor could not stop thinking about what might have happened to his son. Morgana had probably been going to the druids, druids who had killed men of Camelot. Dangerous, to say the least. What if Merlin were caught? The thought had the dragonlord pacing the floor and resisting the urge to bite his nails, a habit he had had back in the Purge, when he was fearing every second for his brother's life. He would have gone after the warlock, but it was too late now; Merlin could be anywhere, and Balinor's tracking, magical or otherwise, was hardly praiseworthy.

Finally the dragonlord decided he was doing no good pacing, and if he were going to not work that day anyway, he might as well go to the physician's chambers, as that was probably where Merlin would return first.

His mind made up, Balinor quickly made his way to Gaius' rooms. He raised his hand to knock, but stopped when he heard voices.

"...has a fearsome reputation." That was Gaius.

"You know of him?" It was Merlin's voice. _Merlin._ A wave of relief washed over the father, and he pushed the door of the physician's chambers open a little more violently than was necessary.

"Father!" exclaimed Merlin, standing up.

Balinor quickly examined the boy. There was nothing wrong with him, as far as he could tell, other than exhaustion.

"What's going on?" asked the dragonlord, turning to Gaius and then back to his son, unable to keep his eyes off the warlock after the long night of worry.

Merlin sighed heavily and told Balinor what he had learned. "What were you saying about Alvarr?" he asked when he had finished.

"Alvarr is a sorcerer, and he and his band have threatened to overthrow the king," Gaius said.

"He's a fanatic," Balinor put in. "His supporters follow him blindly, drawn in by his charisma."

"Have you met him?" asked Merlin curiously.

Balinor felt a scowl darken his face as unwelcome memories threatened to revive. "Yes, briefly. Let us say that it was not something I easily forgot."

"He has the crystal," the warlock murmured, then looked back and forth from Balinor to Gaius in distress. "What do we do?"

"We have no choice," replied Gaius. "We must go to Uther."

"Are you mad?" cried the dragonlord. "He'll kill them all! Not to mention it would probably bring about those prophecies about Morgana and Mordred. I couldn't think of a better way to turn them against Arthur, as you know he'll be the one leading the raid."

For a moment, Balinor could have sworn that Gaius' eyes hardened in anger, but the moment was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving the dragonlord thinking he had imagined it. (1)

"But what should we do, then?" asked Merlin sensibly.

"I'd think that would be obvious," replied the dragonlord with a grin. "Steal back the crystal."

-Merlin-

"So, are we clear on the plan?" Balinor murmured.

Freya and Merlin rolled their eyes. "Yes," they said in unison.

The trio was hidden behind the trees, watching the druids, probably quite close to where Merlin had spied on Alvarr and Morgana earlier. It was just past midday now. Gaius had agreed to feed Arthur some excuse about Merlin's whereabouts that the prince would not believe, but be forced to accept due to Gaius' position in the court, and would torment the servant boy for when he returned.

"And it is?" Balinor prompted. His past experiences with Alvarr had made him almost terrified for the two younger magicians, and he was determined to take every precaution to ensure their safety.

Merlin huffed in annoyance. "You and Freya distract them. I sneak into Alvarr's tent for the crystal."

Balinor nodded. Originally it had been him who was going to steal the crystal, but Merlin had pointed out that he was the better one at sneaking, since he did it at least once a week. (Freya had muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "I think it's more the guards' shortcomings than your skill that make you so successful.")

"Alright," breathed the dragonlord. He took a deep breath, trying to stifle his fear for his son and the druid girl. "Let's go."

He and Freya slipped away from the young warlock, making their way to the other side of the camp. They stole through the woods a quietly as possible, wincing every time they made the slightest noise, yet not once did the druids so much as twitch. They did not even have any guards, Balinor noticed. Alvarr's arrogance seemed to know no bounds. As usual. Once, Freya even tripped and violently tore her skirt, which produced a loud ripping sound, but even then the druids showed no sign of hearing them.

Once they had reached the other side of the camp, the attack began.

Freya's eyes flashed gold as she murmured, "_Bene læg gesweorc._" (2) Instantly a mist began to spread throughout the camp. Finally, the oblivious druids caught on, looking around with cries of alarm.

Balinor knelt to the ground, pressing his palm into the dirt, chanting loudly, "_Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu._" (3) The ground began to shake.

Cries of "We're under attack!" and "Sorcerers!" spread throughout the camp. Some of the druids tried to flee, but with a quick shout of, "_Gehæftan!_" from Freya, vines shot out and seized the fugitives' ankles, binding them to the ground. (4)

Balinor was shooting out balls of fire toward the structures in the camp, except for Alvarr's, which was where the crystal was housed. He knew he ran the risk of setting the forest on fire, but better a burnt forest and a safe kingdom than a healthy forest and Alvarr possessing the crystal.

The fireballs served their intended purpose- to point out Balinor and Freya's location. The druids who were not bound advanced toward them, preparing spells of their own, leaving the crystal unguarded as planned.

The dragonlord glanced around frantically, throwing up a shield to ward off a stunning spell and a sudden bolt of lightning. Where was Alvarr? He could see a boy he assumed was Mordred, struggling with a vine binding him, but there was no sign of the druid leader. Where…

Suddenly a voice that Balinor knew only too well cried out in a wordless howl of agony. The man felt his heart throb with fear. "Merlin!" he shouted, and stepped forward to assist the boy, but at that very moment, he was assaulted by several different spells, and was forced to remain where he was and fight back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Freya dash toward Alvarr's tent. A surge of anger rushed over him. This was ridiculous. He was a warlock and the last dragonlord, and his son was in danger, and a few petty druids were holding him back? The dragonlord gave a roar of anger, letting the power of his heritage and dragon brother seep into it, and the druids were swept back, stunned. He rushed toward the tent, unimpeded. As Merlin began to cry out again, he paused. Perhaps it would be best to have the element of surprise. And so, very quietly, he lifted the edge of the tent and peered inside.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

Alvarr stood with his back to Balinor, just in front of the dragonlord. Freya was crumpled in the right corner of the tent. Balinor wasn't quite sure due to the poor lighting, but he was fairly certain that shadow around her head was blood. On the opposite side of the tent, curled at Alvarr's feet, his anxious eyes fixed on the druid girl, was Merlin.

The dragonlord could not see the other sorcerer's face, but he was sure it lit up with a cruel smile as he said maliciously "_Ic ácene þe ungemédean bánwærc.." _(5)

Merlin's face contorted in pain as he writhed on the ground, letting loose another scream of anguish.

Suddenly the spell was cut off as Balinor shot forward, placing himself between Alvarr and the warlock and punching the druid leader in the face.

Stunned, Alvarr stumbled back, his hand over his nose, too shocked to retaliate immediately. Before he could collect his wits, Balinor slammed his fist into the man's stomach, and then into his jaw, hearing a satisfying _crunch _as he did so.

The druid crumpled to the ground, groaning, in too much pain to pull his thoughts together and cast a spell.

"Stay. Away. From. My son!" snarled Balinor, punctuating each word with a kick.

Alvarr sat up slowly, a contorted grin forming on his swollen, disfigured face. "Balinor," he breathed. "And you have a son, living in Camelot. How… interesting." His eyes gleamed with malice as some new twisted plot formed in his mind.

Balinor felt his heart race in fear, and, before he even realized what he was doing, he snarled, "_Ádíede!_" and the sorcerer crumpled back the ground, dead. (6) The dragonlord turned away, his eyes falling on his son.

"Merlin," he breathed, surging forward and gathering the boy in his arms. "Merlin!"

The boy's eyes fluttered open, and he raised his head weakly, letting it fall back upon seeing Alvarr. "Dead?" he murmured, his voice barely audible.

"Yeah," Balinor said, his voice hoarse. His cleared his throat, but the lump forming there refused to leave. "Yeah. He won't hurt you any more."

Merlin's brow wrinkled, then he suddenly sat up, crying, "Freya!"

"Merlin, lie back, you're injured." He placed a firm hand on his son's chest and pushed him back, but the boy would not be daunted.

"Freya!" he cried, struggling against the dragonlord. "He- he threw her, she hit her head…"

"Fine," conceded his father. "I'll check on her, but you need to stay here. Alright?"

The boy nodded weakly, all his strength seeming to drain out of him at those words. Balinor laid him gently back on the ground, then rose and made his way to Freya's side.

He turned the girl gently on to her back, and gave a little groan. Her face was covered with blood.

"Freya," he murmured, touching her shoulder. The girl did not respond.

Balinor shook his head wearily. The druid was probably concussed; her brain could be severely damaged. But if he healed her, it would drain most of his energy, and Merlin might also be in need of healing.

"Do it," came a weak voice. "Heal her."

Balinor turned to face his son, shaking his head. "Merlin, the spell would…" He fell silent as someone stepped into the tent and caught his breath as he recognized the figure. Mordred.

He stood quickly, positioning his body in front of the wounded younger sorcerers.

"What do you want, boy?"

Mordred remained silent, his eyes fixed on the dragonlord. Balinor felt a chill run down his spine at the child's wordless gaze.

"He says he wants to help," Merlin said weakly from the ground. "In my head. He said he'll heal her." Balinor could hear the note of pleading in the servant's voice.

"And how can we trust you?" he demanded.

There was a long pause, and then Merlin said, "He says… he's a druid, and the druids are loyal to Emrys." Confusion laced his tone.

"Emrys?" Balinor suddenly felt cold. Emrys, the greatest warlock to ever live, destined to serve and protect the Once and Future King, to bring freedom to people of magic… was _Merlin_? It made no sense, and yet somehow, at the same time, he felt as though he had known it all along. Merlin- kind, compassionate, loyal, brave- of course he would be Emrys. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to have a long conversation with a certain lizard.

"It's what the druids call me." Merlin's voice was faint. "I don't know why. But I think we can trust him."

Balinor let out a weary sigh, all of a sudden exhausted and wanting the ordeal to be over. "Fine," he said, stepping aside.

The boy glided forward until he stood over Freya. Kneeling down, he pressed his thumb and forefinger to the girl's forehead and murmured almost inaudibly, "_Þurhhæle bræd._" (7)

Meanwhile, Balinor knelt beside his son, gathering him back into his arms and resting the boy's head on his chest. "Are you alright, son?" he said gently. "Injured?"

The boy shook his head, his eyes closed tightly. "Just… tired," he mumbled.

A wave of relief swept over the dragonlord, and he nodded, the lump in his throat shrinking. "Good." It came out hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "Good." He rose to his feet, still cradling his son in his arms. Freya was on her feet as well, wiping the blood from her face with her sleeve.

"Where's Mordred?"

She looked around in confusion. "I don't know. He's gone."

Balinor did his best to ignore the relief that the eerie child was no longer present.

Suddenly Freya paled as Merlin's pale, limp form caught her eye. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's fine," the dragonlord assured her, "just weak from Alvarr's spell."

Her shoulders slumped in relief. "Let's go, before the other druids try to attack us."

"The crystal," mumbled Merlin as Balinor made for the tent door.

"Oh!" cried Freya. "I forgot!" Whirling around, she knelt down and rummaged in Alvarr's belongings, quickly emerging with a large pouch. "Here we are." A laugh escaped her lips. "And to think we almost did all that to leave without it."

**(1) You always know when they say this in stories that they **_**didn't **_**imagine it. Just saying. xp**

(**2) "Summon the mist to flow out." or something along those lines xp. Used in "The Nightmare Begins."**

**(3) "Lo! I instruct you to be shaken." or something like that xD. Used in "Another's Sorrow."**

**(4) "Bind" or "take captive." Used in "The Labyrinth of Gedref."**

**(5) "I bring/produce thee unbearable/unpleasant pain (in the bones)." Many thanks to MildeAmasoj for this spell! =)**

**(6) "Kill."**

**(7) "Thoroughly heal the flesh." Used in "The Last Dragonlord."  
**

**A/N: I couldn't resist the oblivious druids… xD**

**And I know they didn't have tents in the episode, but hey, it's an AU. I can do what I want. xD**

**So… what did you guys think of this AU? Did it satisfy you? Better or worse than the original episode? Btw, Merlin probably would not have looked in the crystal in his condition, so that never happened. ;) Please review, they mean a lot and inspire me to write! xp**

**The only problem is that I think this was what really turned Morgana to Morgause. I'll have to find another way to do that….**

**Next up will be another teensy one that's already mostly written (should be up soon), and then I'll do the one where Uther learns Balinor is in Camelot.**

**As always, many thanks to all of you wonderful people favoriting, following, and reviewing... and prompts are welcome! =)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Soo… here it is, the promised teeny chapter. =) Um... I know I told some people I'd do the other longer one first (which is why it wasn't up a few days ago), but then that one started going in an unexpected direction, and I decided this chapter would be better before it.**

**Rating: K**

**Warnings: Um… nothing, I guess.**

**Genre: Friendship and angst**

**Characters: Merlin and Balinor**

Chapter 10

"Why do you stay with him?" Balinor murmured in wonder. "Why remain with someone who hates everything you stand for?"

"Because I believe in him," Merlin said quietly, confidently, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "And I believe he is a good man, and that he can change."

"Because of his destiny?"

"No," replied Merlin at once, and then, more thoughtfully, "no."

"Then why?"

Merlin was silent for a moment, pondering, then said with a quiet, unshakeable firmness, "Because he's my friend. And that's what friends do. They believe in each other. Trust each other, and never give up hope."

And he rose and walked away, leaving his father seated at the physician's table, thinking of his own old friend, and wondering if Balinor had been more like his son, more loyal and trusting, things would have gone differently.

But that was all it was now, he thought. Wondering. Fantasy. Because they were no longer friends. Because they had given up on each other long ago, and now there was nothing left of what used to be.

**A/N: So… what did you think? Did you like it? Please let me know! Reviews are my writing fuel. ;)**

**Next up: Uther discovers that Balinor is in Camelot. I'll try to have it up in a decent amount of time this time. xp**

**I was wondering, would anyone like to see oneshots about Balinor and his brother and Uther at some point? I wouldn't do it right away, but I'm itching to do it at some point. =)**

**As always, prompts are most welcome!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I know, I know, it took forever. I'm so sorry. Real life got in the way.**

**On a happier note…. I have over 150 followers! Thanks, guys! Ya'll are amazing! =)**

**Alright, here goes. The credit for this prompt goes to a guest reviewer called "Me."**

**Rating:K+**

**Warnings: umm… none I guess**

**Characters: Arthur, Gaius, Merlin, Balinor, Enmyria**

**Genre: Drama... I think**

**Pairings: None**

**Summary: Uther discovers that Balinor is in Camelot.**

**For those of you who haven't seen 2.11 in awhile, Enmyria is Alvarr's girlfriend/wife/whatever xp**

Chapter 10

Enmyria was furious.

It was not an unusual feeling for her. She was often angry at one thing or another, being quite hot-tempered, and she had hated Uther Pendragon since the Purge began.

But she didn't think she had ever been quite this enraged before.

It was interesting, she thought, seeing an unfamiliar side to an emotion that was usually so familiar, even comforting, to her. Intriguing, even. Before, her anger had always been a bright, wild thing, like a roaring fire, consuming everything in its path.

Now, her anger was different- colder, subtler, but as sharp as steel, like the smooth, cool blade of a knife that, in the dead of night, slides into the back of one who called you friend.

It was different, unusual, and new, and much more deadly than before.

And Enmyria loved it.

She did not think she would ever forget the last moments of Alvarr's life. A loud _thud _from his tent had caught her attention, and, concerned, she had crept behind the domicile, and, lifting the cloth, watched the scene before her. She was just in time to see the dragonlord kicking the man she loved, and was about to burst in when Alvarr had raised his head and identified the man- and the fact that he had a son living in Camelot.

She had been too late to save Alvarr; Balinor's reaction had been too quick. Nor had she been able to catch a glimpse of the dragonlord, for he had had his back turned to her, and then Mordred, the little traitor, had cast a cloaking spell over him when he left.

But she knew enough to get her revenge. She would make Balinor suffer for what he had done. She wanted him to feel her pain, her helpless rage.

And he would. All she had to do was gain an audience with the King of Camelot. After all, what worse way to die than at the hands of a man you once called friend?

-Merlin-

Gaius stared numbly at the door, his mind far away from the court physician's chambers.

Balinor had just stormed out after a passionate argument. The dragonlord had discovered that Merlin was, in fact, the long-awaited and prophesied Emrys, and was furious to find that Gaius had actually known and not told the boy. How could Merlin be expected to fulfill his destiny, Balinor had demanded, if he did not know what it was? Gaius had retorted indignantly that Balinor had no idea how much Merlin struggled with his destiny as it was, and that the physician had not wanted to add to his burden. They had fought and yelled for what seemed hours, both of them subconsciously aware of the fact that this fight was about much more than just the servant's knowledge- that it was, in fact, a fight over Merlin himself and their roles in his life.

The dragonlord had just stormed out after a particularly low blow of Gaius' to the effect that the man had not been there for his son while the physician had.

Gaius knew that if he were more like the young warlock the fight had been over, he would be regretting that cutting remark. But the fact was, Gaius was nothing like Merlin. He was a selfish old man who had lost purpose to his life until he gained the boy, and now he was not willing to give him up. The elderly man comforted himself with the fact that, if truth be told, Balinor was almost as selfish as himself- the servant's large, kind heart had not come from his father's side. Perhaps, reflected the physician, that was the reason their fight had been so passionate. He was the chief source of goodness in the lives of two self-centered old men, and so both wanted him for themselves.

The sudden slamming of his door roused Gaius from his pessimistic thoughts. Glancing up, he saw Merlin stumbling into the room, eyes wide with fright, gasping for breath.

"Merlin!" he cried in alarm. "What is it?"

"The woman with Alvarr," he gasped. "She just had an audience with the king. She claims that Balinor is here in Camelot."

Gaius rose to his feet, fear spreading through him. He might not be on the best of terms with the dragonlord at the moment, but he was still an old friend, and the physician did not wish to see him come to harm. And then, of course, there was the matter of his distressed ward.

"How did she find out? Did she see him? Will she identify him?"

Merlin shook his head. "I don't know how she knows," he panted, still out of breath. "But she doesn't know what he looks like; Uther asked her."

"Well, that at least is something to be grateful for," Gaius admitted. "We must get him out of Camelot immediately."

"That's what I told him," Merlin said, grimacing. "But he won't go."

The physician found that he was not surprised. Balinor was as stubborn a man as his son. Once an idea was in his head, he would not let it go. The dragonlord had made it abundantly clear that he intended to make up the lost time with his son, and Gaius could not imagine that something as ordinary as being hunted by Uther would sway him in that decision.

"Well," he said wearily, "what do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know!" cried the boy. "But we must do _something_!"

Gaius felt a sudden warmth in his chest at the young warlock's words. Merlin was turning to him in a time of crisis, as he had done so many times before. It seemed he had not totally lost the boy to Balinor. Not yet.

"Merlin," he said gently, "I would not have recognized Balinor at all had I not known it was he before he came in. All we can do now is wait. If Uther identifies him, _then _we will worry about what to do. Now I need you to take this sleeping tonic to Lady Morgana."

Merlin gave a weary sigh and took the bottle. Just before he opened the rickety door, he turned back around and said with a smile, "Thank you, Gaius."

"Of course, my boy," murmured the old man.

And a figure slipped away from the door before the young warlock could see it.

-Merlin-

"What is it?"

The crowned prince of Camelot looked up in irritation as his manservant slouched into the room. "Honestly, _Mer_lin, you're serving your future king. It's a privileged position. You really should be more enthusiastic about it."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I get to muck out his royal stables. It's just wonderful."

"That's more like it," said Arthur, clapping him on the back with a grin. The servant winced and groaned.

"In the meantime," the blond continued, "my father has ordered me to perform a search for the dragonlord. If I can't get out of it, I don't see why you should."

Merlin's face drained of all color and he stumbled back from Arthur slightly.

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. "You _do _know what I'm talking about, right, Merlin?"

"Of course," muttered the boy, still deathly pale.

"Right then. Let's get to it."

-Merlin-

"But you don't even know what the dragonlord looks like," Merlin objected as he trotted up to Arthur, slipping through the guards accompanying him. "How do you expect to find him?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "We'll search the houses. If we find anything suspicious, we arrest all the men and bring them to the king. My father has met Balinor; he would be able to recognize him."

The warlock fell silent, slipping behind his master, unable to think of another argument to convince the young prince to give up the search.

"Sire!"

Arthur and Merlin whirled around, and Merlin struggled to bite back a gasp of horror.

There, held firmly in the grasp of Leon and another knight, was his father.

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, _anything_, to protect the dragonlord, but the man shook his head slightly, widening his eyes, trying to convey to the boy that he should stay silent. The servant bit his lip in agitation, but said nothing. Arthur's eyes widened in recognition, and he glanced quickly between Merlin and the captive.

"We found a carving of a dragon in his room, sire," Leon announced, bowing his head slightly in respect to his prince.

Arthur had regained his composure, and he gave a firm nod. "Bring him to the dungeons," he ordered. "My father will see him later."

Fighting back tears, Merlin gazed despairingly after the men as they dragged his father away.

-Merlin-

"Gaius, they arrested him!"

A pot exploded, making the old physician jump. "Merlin, stop that!"

"What do we do?" wailed the boy. With a golden flash of his eyes, an entire shelf of vials fell to the floor, shattering.

"Merlin!"

"_They arrested my father!" _he roared, his eyes blazing. Gaius's cupboard burst into flame.

"MERLIN!" roared the physician, grabbing the boy's shoulders and shaking him roughly. "Stop it! You'll burn the whole palace down! Stop now! You need to calm down!"

Merlin's wide eyes stared back at him, flaming gold. Then the boy drew in a shuddering gasp and slowly, slowly, the orbs faded back to blue.

"That's it," said Gaius gently, then suddenly his arm shot out to catch the boy as he stumbled. "Here." He led the servant over to a chair and sat him down firmly. "I think your magic drained you. Drink this." Reaching over to the table, he seized a cup of water and handed it to the young man, who greedily gulped it down.

"Better?"

Merlin nodded.

"Now tell me what happened."

Taking a deep breath, the boy plunged into the story.

-Merlin-

Merlin's worn boots slapped against the stairs as he made his way to the dungeons. The guards looked up with mild interest as he walked in.

"Food for the prisoner," murmured the boy, lifting a plate of bread and water.

The guards nodded and waved him through, turning back to their game of dice. Merlin bit back a snort. Typical. As he walked past them, his feet slipped on some unidentifiable filth, and he stumbled on top of the guard on the right.

The guard would have cursed at him, but he knew of the boy's legendary clumsiness, and so merely helped him up, grimacing as the servant leaned heavily on him.

"I'm alright," said Merlin, grinning brightly and picking up the plate. Miraculously, nothing had fallen off of it. Patting the food as if to ensure it was unharmed, he approached the dragonlord's cell. Mud or something else squelched beneath his shoes as he walked.

"Merlin," Balinor hissed quietly as the boy drew up to the bars, his attention having been caught by the previous ruckus, "what are you doing here?"

"Here," murmured the young man, holding out the plate. After a moment of silence, his father reached out and took it, eyes widening as he saw what was lying on top of the bread.

"Merlin," he hissed even more quietly, glancing up from the key to ensure the guards were still engrossed in their dice, "are you crazy?"

"Uther's going to have you brought before him tomorrow. He'll recognize you," the boy whispered in reply.

Balinor shook his head grimly. "I would rather die here, with you, than leave the city. There is nothing for me out there."

Merlin ran his hands through his hair, fighting back tears. "Father, please," he whispered, gripping the other man's shoulder. "I could not live with myself if you died because of me. If you will not do it for your own sake, do it for me. Please."

For a long, tense moment, the dragonlord hesitated, but finally he murmured, "Fine. I will do it."

"Thank you," whispered Merlin fervently. He glanced over his shoulder at the guards, who were throwing him suspicious looks. "I should go."

"Goodbye, my son," replied the dragonlord quietly. "Be safe."

"And you," said the warlock softly, nodding.

And then he was gone.

-Merlin-

"Merlin!"

The boy whirled around upon hearing Gwen call his name. "Hey," he said, forcing a cheerful grin.

"Arthur's asking for you."

Merlin did his best not to grimace. He was on his way now to tell Gaius that he had been successful. If he did not come to him soon, the old man would begin to worry. "Well…"

"He says it's urgent," Gwen added. "And you know what he's like when he's impatient." A fond smile crossed her lips.

"Well… could you take a message to Gaius for me, then?"

"Of course!" replied the maid, smiling brightly.

"Just… let him know that…" He paused, searching for innocuous words. "That I did what he asked."

"Alright," said Guinevere, looking slightly puzzled. "Is that all?"

"Um, yep, that's it!" The warlock hurried away. "I should go see Arthur!"

Gwen was left standing in confusion in the hallway, wondering what task was so important that Gaius had to know Merlin had completed it.

-Merlin-

"You wanted to see me?"

Arthur, seated at the table, jumped slightly, startled, then scowled when he saw who it was. "_Mer_lin," he said, embarrassed at being caught off guard, "haven't you ever heard of _knocking_?"

"Oh… once or twice," said the boy cheerily, grinning. This time his smile was genuine. No warning bells had sounded yet, and Balinor was used to slipping away and hiding. Merlin's father would be safe.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Idiot." Then suddenly he grew serious. "Merlin, sit down."

"Excuse me?"

"Sit down." A hint of anger crept into the prince's voice, and Merlin quickly seated himself on the bed, facing the blond. He had once made the mistake of crossing Arthur when he used that tone, and he certainly did not want to repeat that experience.

Sighing, Arthur took a deep breath and stood, pacing. After a moment of silence, he straightened up, turned to Merlin and said, "Merlin, I know."

The boy's eyes widened and he almost toppled off the bed, his face paling. "Kn-know what?" he stammered, his words barely coherent.

The prince glanced toward the door, then he murmured, "I heard you and Gaius speaking yesterday. I know you were sheltering the dragonlord Balinor. And I know that family friend of yours, Dracagend, is him."

"I…" The boy was at a loss for words. All he could feel was the quick _pound, pound, pound _of his heart against his ribs.

"And I know you probably just went to help him escape, if the filth on your boots is anything to go by. I'm not as oblivious as you seem to think, Merlin." And Arthur fixed him with such a stern and meaningful gaze that, for a moment, the warlock was sure that the prince knew everything.

But then Arthur turned away and said, "I don't know why you're helping him. I don't know what he's doing here. But what I do know is this- I trust you, Merlin." Here, turning, he faced the boy and looked him straight in the eyes. "And if you trust this Balinor, then so do I. If he does manage to escape, then I will ensure that he is not caught again."

Merlin's previous feeling of being dumbfounded was nothing compared to this. Arthur _Pendragon_, the son of _Uther_, Crowned Prince of Camelot, was allowing a magical being to live, simply because he knew it was what his manservant would want.

So the incident with Morgause had _not _completely turned him against magic.

Merlin realized he was grinning like the idiot Arthur loved to call him and quickly wiped the smile from his face. "I… I just…. thank you, Arthur," he murmured. "But I am afraid he might not go."

The blond blinked at him in confusion. "Whyever not? He wants to live, doesn't he?"

"Well… that's the thing." Merlin bit his lip, uncertain of how to continue. This was his one chance to convince Arthur to help. "His family was killed in the Purge," he said finally. "After that, he felt he had nothing to live for. Recently, he met my mother, whom he had known many years ago, before the Purge, who used to be a good friend of his. She… told him of me, and he… apparently he was close to my father, and decided to come live here, since my mother was worried, what with all those magical attacks that seem to happen every week. He came here to watch over me and now… I don't think he wants to leave, no matter what that means, because, as he told me… there is nothing left for him out there."

Arthur was silent, then said, "So be it. It is his choice. He and his family chose to practice magic, and now he must deal with the repercussions."

"Arthur, no, please! You have to convince your father to pardon him without seeing him!"

"And why should I do that?" demanded the prince, a glint of anger in his eyes.

"I…" Merlin's voice faltered as he quailed under Arthur's hatred for magic. Taking a deep breath, he decided to lay all his cards on the table. "Because, Arthur, he knew my father. I… through him, I have learned of the man I never knew. And there is nothing I have ever wanted so much as that." He felt tears well up in eyes, but he did not fight them, knowing they would help his case. "Arthur… you were willing to defy your father's laws, to trust in _magic_, for a chance to learn about your mother. Would you begrudge me for wanting to do the same thing?"

Arthur was silent for a long moment, his eyes cast down on the floor, his body perfectly still, his arms crossed over his chest. Finally, he raised his head and said quietly, "Very well. I will speak to my father."

A smile of pure joy flew to Merlin's face, and he sprang to his feet, but before he could say anything, Arthur raised his hand and said firmly, "However, if I ever hear of him using magic to harm a single person, I will personally drag him before the king. Is that clear?"

Merlin bobbed his head, grinning manically. "Oh, thank you, Arthur, thank you!" he cried, reaching out to hug the other man in his enthusiasm.

The prince backed away, eyes wide, holding up his hands.

"Oh, right," said Merlin with a cough, his smile disappearing for a fraction of a second. "You aren't the hugging type, are you?"

"No, _Mer_lin," said Arthur with a scowl. "And where do you think you're going?"

Merlin paused on his way to the door. "Umm… to talk to Gaius?" he offered with a weak smile.

"Of course you're not, _Mer_lin. Do you really expect me to go to my father dressed like _this_?" The prince gestured to his clothing that was ten times wealthier than anything Merlin could ever hope to own.

"Of course not, sire," the boy replied innocently, widening his eyes.

"Good," said Arthur smugly, crossing his arms over his chest as Merlin bounded over to his wardrobe. "And after that, you can polish my armor, sharpen my sword, walk my dogs, clean my chambers, clean my boots, and muck out my stables."

But not even that list of chores could keep Merlin's spirits down now.

-Merlin-

Three days later, rumors of a dragonlord surfaced in a small village in the north of Camelot, and the search for Balinor was called off.

That same day, Gaius revealed to Uther that certain sources had told him that Enmyria had been in league with a dangerous sorcerer named Alvarr. She was arrested that evening.

Late that night, she escaped, and the people of Camelot never saw her again.

-Merlin-

**A/N: So? Did you like it? What did you think? I was going to do some Uther and Balinor angst, but, well… stories sometimes take on a mind of their own. xp**

**Next up: Balinor will do anything to save his dying son. I won't make any promises as to when this one will be up, but I promise I'll try to make it as soon as possible. However, I just discovered a short story competition in my area with a pretty big prize, so I'll probably be concentrating a little more on that. =)**

**OK, quick question- for the next one, is there any particular way you would like to see Merlin dying, or anything you want to happen to him? Also, would people like Arthur to find out that Balinor is Merlin's father?**

**Please review, it means the world! =)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I know, I know, it took forever. I'm sorry! I've been really busy lately.**

**But this chapter is pretty long. It's the longest chapter of this story hands down. ;)**

**Summary: Balinor will do anything to save his dying son.**

**Genres: Um… angst, drama, family, friendship, a bit of romance and tragedy. =)**

**Rating: T**

**Pairings: Freylin. Mergana and Arthur/Freya (Arya xp) if you're wearing goggles.**

**Characters: Balinor, Freya, Gaius, Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana, Kilgharrah, and some OC's**

Chapter 12

Balinor hummed quietly to himself as he whittled. Today had been a good day- he had sold almost twenty carvings and Merlin had even found time to stop by for a few minutes and greet him. It seemed the boy had less and less time lately, and the dragonlord found himself cherishing every moment he spent with him, constantly thinking of those moments in times when Merlin was not there.

A quiet knock sounded on the door, and Balinor felt a smile rise to his lips. Despite his constant reassurance that it was now Freya's home too, the shy girl still tapped her fist against the door before entering. "Come in," he called.

Freya gently pushed open the door, then slid inside, shutting it quietly behind her. "Good evening," she said with her small smile. "I brought some rolls."

"Oh, thank you," he said, glancing up. "Just set them on the table."

She did as he said and then, crossing the room, sat in the chair beside his.

"How was your day?" he asked, frowning as he whittled a particularly difficult part of his deer carving.

"Terrible. There was a family- a widow and two children. All three had consumption. (1) They were coughing up blood and feverish. Two of them died while we were there, and the other won't last much longer. Gaius had to bring Merlin to help."

Balinor shook his head in sympathy and kept carving. "It isn't dangerous, though, is it? The disease?"

"You mean for us?"

"Yes."

"No. Gaius says it's rare to catch it unless you live with someone who has it, actually. (2) May I eat now?"

"Of course."

-Merlin-

Gaius glanced up as his nephew plodded down the stairs, rubbing his dark-ringed eyes.

"Did you stay up studying last night?" he said, giving his ward a disapproving glare and the customary raised eyebrow, careful not to mention what the boy had been studying.

Merlin frowned in confusion. "No, I went to bed when you did. Why?"

"You look exhausted."

"I am." Upon seeing Gaius' look of concern, he waved his hand dismissively as he pulled on his jacket, saying, "Arthur was working pretty hard yesterday in training, and I got to be the practice dummy. My body probably still hasn't recovered yet."

"I see." After a moment, the physician allowed the eyebrow to descend and gestured to a bowl of porridge on the table. "Eat up."

"Ummm… actually, I'm not very hungry right now. I'll eat later. Bye!"

The young warlock was out the door before his guardian could protest.

Gaius turned to his potion vials, shaking his head, eyebrow raised.

-Merlin-

A week had passed since Freya, Gaius, and Merlin had done their best to ease the passing of the ill family, and the physician was concerned, to say the least. His ward had been passing up meals often, saying he was either not hungry or too busy. When Merlin came downstairs in the mornings, he was always soaked in sweat. He also seemed to be constantly exhausted and had lost weight that his already skinny frame could not afford to lose.

And Gaius had not been the only one who had noticed. Yesterday, Balinor, Freya, Gwen, Morgana, and even Arthur had all mentioned it. Gaius had waved it off as a lack of food, but, deep down, he felt it was something much more serious.

And so that was why he was listening to Merlin complain as the boy sat on the patient's table.

"Really, Gaius, there's nothing wrong," he was protesting.

"Merlin, be quiet. I can't hear you heart."

"There's nothing wrong with it," muttered the servant petulantly, but he fell silent all the same.

"It sounds fine," Gaius conceded at last, pulling away.

"Told you," grumbled the boy. "Can I go now?"

"No. Merlin, are you hot at night?"

The question seemed to take the young warlock aback. "It's freezing at night."

"You're covered in sweat every morning."

"My body's probably trying to warm itself up," Merlin protested, making to slip off the table. The raised eyebrow stopped him.

"Honestly, Merlin, sometimes I wonder if your destiny was given to the wrong person. (3) Sweating is your body's way of cooling down. It's basic medical knowledge. You'd think even you would learn that after two years of living with the court physician."

"Oh." Merlin turned red. "Well… can I go?"

Gaius rested his hand on his ward's forehead, causing the boy to yelp in surprise. "You feel a bit warm," he mused, frowning. "I think you may be coming down with something."

"I feel fine, Gaius," moaned the servant. "Arthur's going to kill me if I don't bring him his lunch soon."

"Alright," said the physician reluctantly, stepping back to allow the boy to slide off the table. "But let me know if you feel ill in any way."

"I will!" cried Merlin, already out the door.

Gaius shook his head fondly.

-Merlin-

"_There _you are. What took you so long?" demanded the prince of Camelot as his manservant shuffled into the room, bearing a plate of food.

"Gaius was giving me a checkup," moaned the boy.

"I see. Well, you are ridiculously skinny. Even more so than usual," Arthur commented as Merlin laid his lunch before him. "It makes your ears look even larger."

"Thank you, _sire_," drawled the young man sarcastically. "Do you want anything else?"

"No."

Merlin scowled at him and retreated to clean the room, grumbling something about how he didn't know how Arthur would manage a kingdom if he couldn't even take care of his own room.

Arthur rolled his eyes and did his best to block out the boy's annoying chatter and focus on his meal. Soon, however, Merlin was overcome by a fit of coughing.

The prince sighed loudly and raised his head. "Honestly, Merlin, must you always…" His voice trailed off in alarm as he saw the servant pull a red-tinged hand away from his mouth. "Merlin?" he questioned in concern, rising.

Merlin opened his mouth, probably to reply, but his body was suddenly racked by another violent coughing fit, and he bent over double. Arthur watched in horror as something slimy and distinctly red flew from the boy's mouth and landed on the floor with a sticky slap.

"Merlin!" he cried out, cold fear washing over him as he rushed to the boy's side. He ran his hands through his hair helplessly as the warlock continued to cough. Now that he was closer, he could see that, whatever Merlin was coughing up, it wasn't just blood.

"Guards!" he bellowed as Merlin swayed slightly. "Guards!"

Competent for once, the guards rushed into the room within seconds.

"Get Gaius!" Arthur ordered roughly as the men looked around in confusion, obviously wondering why the prince had called them in for something as trivial as an ill servant. "_NOW!" _he roared as they glanced uncertainly at each other.

The men hurried out, and the young man turned back to Merlin, whose coughs had subsided but who now looked as though he were about to faint.

"Sit down, you idiot," ordered the blonde, worry making his tone harsh.

The boy practically crumpled to the floor. Arthur's steadying hand was the only thing that prevented him from collapsing on his face.

"Sire?"

Arthur turned upon hearing the physician's voice. "Gaius, thank God," he breathed.

The old man sighed at the sight before him. "Foolish boy," he murmured affectionately. "I thought there was something wrong. What happened?"

The prince quickly summarized Merlin's coughing fit. As he spoke, the physician's face grew grave. "What is it, Gaius?" Arthur almost pleaded when he had finished. "What's wrong with him?"

"I'm afraid, sire," said Gaius, voice thick with emotion, "that Merlin has consumption."

"Consumption?" repeated Arthur, paling. "But isn't that… incurable?"

The physician could barely manage a nod. "Yes, sire," he whispered. (4)

-Merlin-

Balinor jumped as the door to his room slammed open. His knife slipped, cutting off the wing of the eagle he was turning. Almost snarling in frustration, the dragonlord whirled around to let the intruder know exactly what he thought of them, but stopped in astonishment when he saw who it was.

"Freya? Freya, what's wrong?"

The druid girl sobbed, rubbing at already red eyes. "Gaius sent me to get you," she choked out. "It's Merlin."

For a moment, Balinor was sure his heart stopped in fear. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and managed to say, "Where is he? What's happened?"

"He's in Arthur's chambers, but they're bringing him to Gaius' now. He… he nearly collapsed in Arthur's chambers after coughing up blood. Gaius…" She stopped and drew in a choking breath. "Gaius says it's consumption."

-Merlin-

Gaius' door slammed against the wall as Balinor exploded into the room. "Merlin!" he cried out, his voice cracking. "Merlin! Where is he?"

"He's in his room."

Startled, he glanced over at the prince standing by Gaius' bed. "Gaius is with him," said Arthur quietly. There was a hollow sound to his voice that Balinor had never heard in a Pendragon before. He had heard it in other men and women, though, during the Purge.

It was the sound of utter despair.

"What did Gaius say?" The dragonlord's voice was hoarse with fear for his young son.

The prince blinked for a moment and rubbed his hand over his mouth, evidently in an attempt to compose himself. Finally he managed, his voice barely over a whisper, "Gaius says…" He cleared his throat and pressed onward. "Gaius says there is nothing he can do. He says that the disease has already progressed a long way, and that he has little time." His voice was distant as he recited the words, but his empty, shell shocked eyes spoke the truth. The young man was terrified.

Balinor sat down slowly at the table, his mind a haze of thoughts and emotions. _This can't be happening, _he thought numbly. _This is all a dream. My son is only nineteen. I've just met him. I haven't been able to atone for abandoning him yet. He can't die. Not now. He has to die when he's eighty and has grandchildren and is married to Freya. This can't be happening. It can't. He doesn't deserve this. He's devoted his life to protecting Arthur. How can he do that if he's dead? I've devoted my life to _him_. What will I do if he dies now? I have nothing else. I want more time with him, want him to have a long, happy life._

_I need him._

A small sob tore him from his thoughts. Freya had sunk onto Gaius' bed and was crumpled into a ball, sobbing brokenly into her hands. Balinor felt what was left of his shredded heart shatter into pieces as tears rose in his eyes.

Arthur looked uncomfortable at her display of emotion, his jaw working at the sight. Finally, with a small sigh and a mutter that had something to do with Merlin and embarrassing situations, he laid a hand on Freya's shoulder and squeezed gently. She froze for a moment in shock, then pressed her face against her knees and started to cry again, softly.

The door to Merlin's room opened slowly as Gaius trudged down the stairs, looking older than he had an hour earlier.

"Well?" said Arthur expectantly as Freya sat up straight, wiping away her tears.

Gaius shook his head wearily. "My initial assessment was correct. There is nothing that can be done for him."

"Nothing at all?" demanded Arthur, desperation shining in his eyes.

"No, my lord," murmured the physician. A choking sound escaped Arthur as he raised a hand to his mouth and turned away.

"Gaius, can I speak with you in private?" Balinor said, feeling his heart pounding against his breastbone in fear.

The elderly man nodded and walked over to him.

"What of magic?" whispered the dragonlord, careful not to speak too loudly.

The physician shook his head. "I'm sorry, Balinor. He's too far gone. The only way to save him now would be to trade a life for a life."

"Then we must do it at once, before it's too late," said the father grimly, determinedly. "I will sacrifice my life for his."

"No, Balinor," breathed Gaius gently. "Nimueh is dead. The only person with the power to trade your life for Merlin's is Merlin himself. And you know that he would never consent to such a thing, even if he were able to perform the spell."

The dragonlord felt coldness seize his heart. No. This couldn't be happening. There had to be a way to save Merlin. There was no way his son could be dying with no hope of recovery.

"No," he breathed, shaking his head. "_No." _He dashed forward, making for his son's room. Gaius did not stop him, just stood watching him with grief-filled eyes.

The young servant was curled in a fetal position on his bed, covered in sweat, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

"Merlin," murmured Balinor tenderly, seating himself on the stool beside the boy's bed. Reaching forward, he placed a gentle hand on his son's head and ran his fingers through the dark, damp hair.

"Father?" came a faint whisper. Glancing down at the young man's face, the dragonlord saw that the servant's glassy eyes were open and focused on his parent.

"Merlin," he breathed, managing a small smile. "How do you feel?"

"Chest hurts," murmured the boy. "What are you doing?"

"Visiting you," the dragonlord choked past the lump in his throat. "Merlin, you're… you're very ill."

"Oh." The warlock frowned. He did not seem to quite comprehend what his father was saying. "I think there's something in my pillow."

"What do you mean?" asked the older man, half rising. For a moment, he felt a wild hope that perhaps this was all a magical illness produced by a poultice under the boy's pillow, and that all that had to be done to save him was to break the enchantment.

"There's something moving inside it. I can hear it," mumbled the boy, and Balinor's heart sank again as he realized that the fever was causing Merlin to hallucinate. He could feel tears rising in his eyes. He couldn't let this happen. Merlin would _not _die.

Rising, he stormed from the room. He would find a way to save his son.

-Merlin-

"Kilgharrah!" roared Balinor. "_Kilgharrah!"_

There was a loud _whoosh_ of wings as the huge beast alighted on the rock across from the dragonlord. "Balinor," said the dragon simply. "It has been many years."

"So it has." The man took a deep breath. "You know why I'm here."

"The young warlock is dying. You wish to save him."

"Please," begged the dragonlord. "You know his destiny. Albion needs him. There must be a way to save him."

"A life for a life, Balinor. You know that as well as I do."

"But how can I trade my life for his?" pleaded the father. "Nimueh is dead. He is the only one left with such power."

"Then you must convince him to say the spell."

"He would never do it," objected Balinor.

"Bring him to me. I will make him perform the spell."

"You can do that?"

"We are brothers, Balinor. You know me as you know yourself. Do you not trust me?"

The dragonlord took a deep breath and nodded. He refused to think of what would happen did the dragon prove to be untrustworthy."I will bring him at once."

-Merlin-

It was evening by the time Balinor reached Gaius' chambers.

Gaius was sitting at the table with Arthur and Gwen, talking in a low voice. There was a slight smile on Arthur's face, but the smile was tinged with grief. The maidservant was wiping her eyes. Balinor suspected that they were discussing Merlin.

The physician glanced at him, but continued speaking to Arthur, knowing what the dragonlord had come for.

Hurrying up to his son's room, Balinor felt his heart twist at the sight that greeted him. Freya was sleeping half on the bed, her hair sprawled all over the blankets, her hand resting on Merlin's chest. A chair had been brought up into the room and placed beside Freya's stool, and Morgana was curled in it, asleep. She was holding Merlin's hand in her own, and there were tear tracks on her cheeks.

Sighing softly, he shook Freya gently. "Freya," he murmured.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. There was an imprint of the blankets on the right side of her face.

"I think I may have a way to save him," whispered Balinor, not wanting to wake Gwen. "But I need to move him."

Upon hearing these words, Freya suddenly appeared much more alert. "What do you want me to do?"

"I just needed you to move off him," the dragonlord explained with a small smile. "Can you move Morgana's hand?" Going around to the other side of the bed, he slid one arm under the boy's shoulders, and the other under his knees and lifted him as Freya took Morgana's hand.

"Freya," he murmured. The girl looked up at him, hope brimming in her eyes.

"You're a good girl," he told her gently. "There is no one better I could have picked for my son to love."

Confused, she whispered, "Thank you. What are you…"

But the dragonlord had already left with his son.

"Balinor, what are you doing?" demanded Gaius as the man emerged from the upstairs room with the young servant in his arms.

"He said he wanted to be outside," said the younger man.

Arthur rose to his feet eagerly. "He's awake?"

"Not anymore."

"Can I come with you?" the prince almost pleaded.

Balinor cast a desperate look at Gaius, who seemed to have realized what was going on.

"Arthur, perhaps it would be better if you gave Balinor some time alone with him," said the physician gently.

Arthur nodded stiffly, a glimmer of hurt in his eyes. "Of course," he said, seating himself again.

"Thank you," the dragonlord murmured. "It will not take long."

-Merlin-

Balinor laid his son down as gently as possible on the floor of the dragon's cave, then straightened up, massaging his aching shoulders. "Well?"

"You must wake him. Tell him the spell will heal him, but do not tell him that it will trade his life for another's."

The dragonlord's eyes narrowed. "You want me to take advantage of my son's weakness and lie to him?"

"Better deceived than dead," Kilgharrah pointed out.

Balinor could not argue with that logic. Sighing, hating himself for what he was about, knowing that Merlin would never be able to forgive himself for what was about to happen, he knelt down and gently slapped the boy's face. "Merlin? Merlin, wake up."

Merlin's eyes fluttered open slowly. "Father?" he slurred.

"I need you to say a spell for me, Merlin. It's going to heal you, but you're the only one powerful enough to do it. Alright?"

There was a long pause, then the boy murmured, "Alright."

"What's the spell?" asked Balinor, looking up at the dragon.

"_Ic geceape þæt feorhlíf missenlicne menn for mín feorhlíf. Ic geceape þæt feorhlíf mín ærfædere for mín feorhlíf,_" replied Kilgharrah. (5)

Turning to his son, the dragonlord repeated the words.

Merlin nodded slightly, then breathed, "_Ic geceape þæt feorhlíf missenlicne menn for mín feorhlíf. Ic geceape…"_

The boy's voice trailed off and his eyes closed.

"Merlin? Merlin! Merlin, wake up, you have to finish the spell!" Balinor slapped his face, but the boy made no response.

"Kilgharrah?" said the dragonlord desperately.

"He said enough," replied the dragon. "The part of the spell he did not complete was the part that specified whose life he was trading his for."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that magic itself will choose who dies for Merlin."

Balinor could not help the selfish wave of relief upon hearing those words. It seemed as though it was not his time to die after all.

A broad smile was on his lips as he gathered his son in his arms. "Thank you, Kilgharrah," he said, bowing as much as possible to the beast. "I will not forget this."

-Merlin-

"You traded my life for someone else's?" Merlin stared at his father, aghast, his fingers clutching Gaius' table.

It was the next day, and Merlin was almost fully recovered. Arthur and Morgana had seemed suspicious at his sudden recovery, but they had not confronted Balinor or Gaius about it.

"I told you. I was going to trade it for mine, but you were too ill to perform the entire spell."

"You lied to me." His voice was small, hurt.

"It was that or let you die. It had to be done," explained Balinor gently.

"You don't understand, do you? I don't _want _anyone to die for me! Now I'm alive at the expense of another! Somewhere, an innocent person is dying because of me!" cried the boy, rising from his chair in a fit of passion.

"Would you have not done the same had our situations been reversed?" demanded Balinor.

Merlin fell silent, biting his lip. With a heavy sigh, he sat back down.

Suddenly the door to Gaius' chambers burst open and a broad man staggered in with a young boy wrapped in blankets in his arms. A sobbing woman followed close behind.

"Where is the physician?" cried the man desperately. "My son needs the physician!"

"Gaius isn't here now," said Merlin, rising quickly, "but I'm his apprentice. I can help. Lay him down on the bed over there."

The father did as Merlin said, laying the boy down gently. The woman, presumably the boy's mother, knelt at the bedside and took the child's hand, still crying softly.

"We found him this way this morning," explained the man. The physician's ward pulled away the blankets and gasped. The boy, who seemed to be about eleven, was covered in sores and boils. He looked exactly as Hunith had after Merlin had accidentally traded her life for Arthur's. This was the person whose life magic had chosen to take.

"I…" Merlin stammered, knowing there was nothing nonmagical that could be done for the boy. "Get me some water." Desperately he searched his memories, trying to remember the spell the dragon had told him. It was his fault that this boy was suffering and dying, and he would remedy it, no matter the cost to himself. But try as he might, he could not remember the spell. The fever had all but erased the memory.

Gaius soon returned, and together he and his ward did all they could to help the boy, but it was not enough.

That evening, the boy died.

After the grieving parents had taken the body and left, and Gaius had excused himself to bring the king his medicine, Merlin turned to his father and said softly, "That was my fault."

"No," murmured Balinor, laying a hand on his son's shoulder. "It was not. It was the fault of myself and Kilgharrah."

The warlock shoved the hand away, tears welling in his eyes. "No," he choked. "_I _was the one who said the spell. I killed that boy." Suddenly he whirled around, facing his father. "And now those parents have lost their child because of it. I told you, I don't want anyone to die for me. You knew that, didn't you? But you did it anyway. You tricked me into taking the life of an innocent _child_. You-"

"Merlin," said the dragonlord gently. "I-"

"No." The boy turned away. "I don't want to hear it." After a long silence, he whispered, "You've turned me into a murderer. You know, all my life, I've been so afraid of my magic. Afraid that, in using it, I would hurt an innocent person. Afraid of becoming a monster." He turned to face the dragonlord, gazing straight into his eyes. "And now my father is the one to fulfill those nightmares." Whirling around, he stormed towards his room.

"Merlin-" began Balinor.

"_Leave!_" roared the boy. A shelf of vials exploded, and the dragonlord gasped. Then, hot tears stinging his eyes, a lump settling in his throat, Balinor nodded and, turning, walked out of Gaius' chambers.

As he walked slowly home, replaying the scene in the chambers, fighting tears, all Balinor could think was, _At least he is alive to be angry with me. It is a small price to pay for the life of my son._

**(1) Old name for tuberculosis**

**(2) It actually is not rare to catch tuberculosis from someone who has it, but it **_**is **_ **fairly rare for that tuberculosis to become active after only one exposure, thus Gaius' conclusion.**

**(3) That line is from **_**The Mark of Nimueh **_**(1.03)**

**(4) Tuberculosis is, of course, not incurable but is still rather dangerous. Today it is cured with antibiotics, but, since they didn't have those back then, I figured that it would be considered incurable.**

**(5) I trade another man's life for my life. I trade my father's life for my life. I got this off an online translator; the grammar is probably atrocious. xp**

**A/N: Sooo what did you think? Did you like it? Did you like the ending? Personally, I'm quite fond of it…**

**And yes, there wasn't much of Gwen or Morgana. I'm sorry. =)**

**Before anyone says that Merlin's being OOC, I think that one of Merlin's deepest fears is of being a monster, and if he used his magic to kill an innocent person, I don't think he'd be able to forgive himself or anyone else whose fault it was.**

**Does anyone have any prompts? I'd love to see them if you do, and I promise they'll be done! =)**

**And once again, many thanks to those who reviewed, favorited, and followed. You guys are awesome! =)**

**Next up: Tag to 2.11, "The Fires of Idirsholas"**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Gasp! What is this? An update within a reasonable time frame? What is the world coming to? Ok… this chapter **_**is **_**rather short. xp**

**Ok, the prompt for one of the scenes (the one where Merlin visits the sleeping Balinor) goes to Milde Amasoj, as does the previous chapter. =) In fact, the whole theme of this chapter came from that one idea, so thank you! Also many thanks to you for being the 100th reviewer! *cheers***

**Summary: Tag to 2.12 xp**

**Rating: K**

**Genre: Angst, Family**

**Pairings: Slight Freylin. =)**

**Characters: Balinor, Merlin, Morgana, Morgause, Kilgharrah, Gaius, Freya**

Chapter 13

Balinor shot up in his bed with a cry, panting heavily, his face coated with sweat.

He had had another nightmare.

A surge of anger and frustration swept over him. He was neither a child nor a seer, but a fully grown, powerful man, yet his imagination left him terrified of sleep.

With a moan of impatience, he sank back into bed, doing his best not to recall the images from his dreams- Merlin, dying of consumption, his father being too late to save him, or Merlin screaming at the dragonlord, telling him hated him, asking him to leave Camelot…

He had experienced both nightmares in the past week since Merlin's magical recovery from the deadly illness. This particular night he had watched Merlin die slowly and painfully as blood leaked from his mouth.

The dragonlord thought that perhaps if he could see Merlin, spend time with his son, reassure himself that the boy really was in perfect health, than the dreams would leave. But that was not be. The young warlock had been doing his best to avoid him, and when Balinor had appealed to Freya for help, she had simply said, "It isn't my place. This is something you both need to overcome on your own."

The father could see the sense in her words, but that did not mean he appreciated them.

Sighing, he rose from his bed and plodded wearily over to the table, picking up the dragon carving he had begun some weeks ago. It was nearly completed, and he planned to give it as a sort of apology gift to his son in a few days, when he returned from his trip with Arthur to Idirsholas.

Merlin's brush with death had made startlingly clear to Balinor how very much his son meant to him. The boy was all he had now, and being parted with him on unfriendly terms made him feel as though his chest were being ripped open and his heart clawed out. The dragonlord was determined to do everything in his power to bring the boy back to him.

-Merlin-

As Balinor sat silently carving Merlin's gift, a cloaked figure stole out of Camelot and slipped into the forest surrounding the city, stealing through the dark night until they reached a clearing.

"You look well."

Morgana turned upon hearing her sister, touching the healing bracelet on her own wrist briefly. "I wear it all the time. I can't remember when I last had a bad dream."

"But you do not seem happy," noted Morgause. "Why is that?"

Morgana hesitated for a moment, unsure as to whether or not this meeting was wise. "I would be if I didn't have to pretend," she finally confessed.

"Pretend?" questioned the other sorceress, ever cool and collected.

"That I am someone I am not. That I do not live in fear every day," the seer blurted out before she could change her mind. It felt so light, so freeing, to speak these words to someone and not fear the consequences to them or to herself.

Morgause nodded as if she had been expecting such an answer. "Have you ever imagined a new world, Morgana?" she asked, her tone calculating. "One where Uther was no more?"

The young woman felt a sudden stab of fear at the treasonous words, but, remembering Morgause's kindness to her and that wonderful feeling of freedom, she confessed, relief washing over her as she finally spoke the shameful word out loud, "Sometimes."

Morgause raised her eyebrows, her face betraying no emotion. "And is that what you'd like?"

Morgana hesitated again, deciding on a rather vague, "I once had the chance to be his assassin."

"And what stopped you?" questioned Morgause curiously.

"I don't know." The girl thought for a moment. "I believe he cared for me."

"And now?" prodded her sister.

"Now what?"

"Do you still believe that? After all you have seen of his hatred towards magic?"

Morgana paused for a long moment, contemplating. Finally she said sadly, "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Morgana," said Morgause carefully, "the decisions you make now will change the shape of everything that is to come."

"What do you mean?" Morgana was thoroughly puzzled, and rather frightened, by now. She did not like the way this conversation was going and was growing more and more sure that this had been an awful mistake. She was in the woods alone at night with a sorceress, with no one nearby to hear and come to her aid were something to go wrong. Yes, she also possessed magic, but she had no idea how to use it, and Morgause, from what little Arthur and Merlin had told her, seemed quite powerful. If she were to anger the blonde woman, there was no telling what she would do to Morgana. And so the young noble decided to play along for now. Perhaps she could learn the sorceress's plan and then warn Uther.

"Whose side are you on, Morgana?" demanded Morgause. "Are you with Uther? Or are you with me? Are you prepared to help me bring about his downfall?"

Heart pounding in her chest, dreading that the sorceress would see right through her lies, she replied, "I am."

"I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that," breathed Morgause affectionately.

The last thing Morgana knew before losing consciousness was the other woman's eyes glowing gold and strong arms supporting her as she collapsed.

-Merlin-

Balinor rubbed his eyes tiredly, stifling a yawn. His head was throbbing, and his neck ached. Perhaps he was coming down with the sickness Freya had been complaining of earlier. She had gone to Gaius for a remedy. He should go and get some as well. He could bring his carving along- he was determined to finish the dragon for his son.

He yawned again and blinked, rubbing his eyes. He was so very tired.

-Merlin-

When Merlin saw the bodies littering the castle floor, all he could think of was Gaius, Freya, and his father. _His father_. The man brought a cascade of emotions into his heart every time he thought of him now- anger, betrayal, pain. But he was still his father, and just because he had done wrong didn't mean Merlin wished to see him come to any harm. He determined to visit the three as soon as possible.

-Merlin-

The warlock caught a glimpse of them when he and Arthur hurried into Gaius' chambers, but after Arthur caught sight of the sleeping physician, he decided he _must _find his father, and Merlin was forced to leave before ensuring that the other magicians were safe.

-Merlin-

Morgana was so frightened. Something told her these strange events had to do with Morgause and their meeting in the woods, but what could she do? That knowledge would not help the others, and it would only cast suspicion on her if she told them.

Speaking of which, why wasn't she asleep? She had a feeling that the answer would not be something she wanted to know. The young witch was tempted to tell Merlin, but again, she did not see how that could help, and the last thing she wanted was for him to look at her as though she might be the enemy, the way Arthur had done.

No, she would keep silent for now and try to unravel this mystery on her own. If she thought of a solution to their problem, then she would speak up.

But for now, she held her peace.

-Merlin-

The warlock got his chance to confirm that his fellow sorcerers were indeed safe and merely sleeping when Arthur instructed him to go search for the nonexistent potion.

Freya was slumped in an uncomfortable position on the floor, her legs twisted awkwardly beneath her, her arms splayed out to either side, and her head hanging back achingly low. Tenderly, Merlin lifted her in his arms and carried her to Gaius' bed, settling her appendages in a more comfortable position.

Gaius was seated at the table, his head resting on a book. Doubtless he had been searching for a cure to the mysterious illness when he himself had fallen prey to it.

Merlin's father was also seated at the table, a knife in one hand and a carving in the other. The warlock gently tugged the knife away, worried the man would cut himself when he woke. As he set it down, his eyes rested on the carving and widened slightly. It was a dragon, and there, engraved on its belly, was the word _Merlin_.

The boy felt a lump grow in his throat as he gazed down at his father. The dragonlord had fallen to the spell while carving a gift for his son. He probably would have felt the effects of the illness coming on, and yet he had continued to whittle the wood, determined to finish the present…

Merlin blinked rapidly and turned away to get his spellbook. Now was not the time to become sentimental; Camelot was in grave danger and he was fairly sure he was the only one who would be able to save it. He could sort through his torrent of emotions about his father when he knew they were safe.

-Merlin-

Merlin felt his heart sink as he listened to the dragon's words. He must be wrong. There must be another way.

The beast was asking Merlin to kill his friend, a girl who had been nothing but kind to him since they first met.

He wanted Merlin to become a murderer.

How could he do such a thing? How would he be able to live with himself if he took her life?

And yet, even as he asked himself that question, he already knew that he was going to do it anyways.

Because it was either Morgana or Arthur, and, to Merlin, in such a situation, no one stood a chance against Arthur.

And as he trudged out of the dragon's cave, heart heavy, sick with grief, weighed down with the guilt of what he was about to do, the thought suddenly came to him that this was how his father had felt. Balinor had been forced to chose between his son and another person.

And, as Merlin with Arthur, to the dragonlord, in such a situation, no one stood a chance against his son.

And as Merlin gazed at the ceiling, tears in his eyes as he held Morgana in his arms, wondering when Arthur had become so important to him that he would sacrifice a dear friend for the prince, his heart broke and he could not help but forgive his father.

For how could he be angry at the man for committing a crime he himself was guilty of as well?

-Merlin-

**A/N: So what did you think? Did you like my additions/AU to the episode? What did you think of my changes to Morgana? Better or worse than canon? Please review, it means the world to me!**

**Also, I'd love to hear people's prompts. After the next chapter, I have a whole year before the season 3 to write about, so any ideas (except slash xp) are appreciated!**

**I'm planning a story about Balinor and his brother growing up with Uther and Aurelius. Would people be interested in that?**

**Next up: AU of 2.13, "The Last Dragonlord." Would people like a reveal of Balinor and Merlin's relationship to Arthur in this chapter, or would you prefer if I waited longer? (Because he will find out. xp)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I'm sorry this took so long! I was a bad person and started a new story instead of working on this one. Although, I was also suffering from some massive writer's block. This chapter was, I imagine, rather like trying to have a baby that doesn't want to come out. ^-^ And my hypoglycemia never helps anything. :/ Anyways, I'll shut up. xD**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed. You guys are the best! =)**

**Summary: AU of 2.13**

**Rating: T**

**Characters: Arthur, Freya, Merlin, Balinor, Leon, Gaius, Kilgharrah**

**Warnings: Brief mentions of wounds and blood**

**Pairings: Teensy bit of Freylin**

Chapter 14

Balinor awoke to screaming.

He shot up in bed, hearing a gasping from across the room, where Freya's cot lay.

"Freya?" he called.

"It isn't me," she breathed. "It's coming from outside."

As she spoke, there was a huge crash from somewhere towards the castle, and a sudden flash lit up the room.

Freya gave a strangled gasp. "What's going on?"

Balinor was already making his way toward the door, tugging on his boots as he went. "If I had to guess, I'd say Camelot is under attack."

"Again?" moaned the girl. "But we were just attacked this morning!"

"No rest for the wicked," muttered the dragonlord dryly as he yanked open the door and rushed down the stairs of the house they were boarding in.

The sight that greeted him was one he had thought to never view again.

The Great Dragon himself was soaring over Camelot, fire spewing from his mouth as surged toward the lower town- and Balinor.

"Kilgharrah!" cried the father. "Kilgharrah! What are you doing? You are killing innocents!"

The dragon paid him no heed, and the man opened his mouth to roar out orders in the dragon tongue.

But suddenly, there was a flash of light in the corner of his vision, a loud crash, and Balinor knew no more.

-Merlin-

Freya seized her dress and yanked it on over her nightshift as quickly as she could. The minute it had fallen to her ankles, she sprang toward the door and pulled it open forcefully. Dashing down the stairs, she made her way outside just in time to see a stream of fire shoot into a nearby home. The building exploded, sparks and flaming woods raining everywhere. Giving a small shriek, Freya crouched down and brought her arms over her head protectively. She glanced up to see a large winged shape flying away from the smoldering remains.

_Kilgharrah! _she realized. _Merlin must have freed him._ And then, _we need Balinor._

By that time, the shower of sparks and flames had all but ceased, and the druid girl rose, scanning her surroundings frantically for her guardian, as others did the same and began searching for their loved ones. "Ba-" she began, then, correcting herself, she called out, "Dracagend? Dracagend?" Her voice was small in the chaos.

There was no reply.

"Dracagend?!" she cried desperately, biting her lip to hold back the tears threatening to well up in her eyes.

In the rubble, something shifted slightly, and she hurried over and gasped in shock. Balinor was crumpled beneath a beam of wood. Blood stained his tunic and pooled beneath him, and there was an ugly gash on his temple.

"Balinor?" she whispered, her lips trembling slightly. His fingers curled the tiniest bit at his name, but otherwise he remained motionless.

A choked sob escaped the girl's lips, and she glanced around frantically, looking for someone or something to help. "Please, someone help me!" she cried. "My father needs help!" No one paid her any attention, too busy searching frantically for or mourning over their own loved ones.

Wiping her eyes furiously, Freya racked her brain, trying to form a plan, but with no success. She was not strong enough to lift the beam off of Balinor's chest and, even if she were, there was no one to pull him out from underneath. There were many people around and, though they seemed to be paying her no attention, the way her luck was going this night, if she used magic, they would look at her just as her eyes flashed gold.

She chewed her lip, rubbing at her eyes. Finally she decided to use magic and hang the consequences. This was Merlin's father under the beam, and she refused to let him to come to any more harm, not after all he and his son had done for her.

Reaching out her hand, she opened her mouth to say the words, but was cut off by a cry of, "Freya!"

Startled, she glanced up and almost sobbed in relief when she saw Merlin hurrying toward her. Arthur and several knights were close behind him, gazing despondently at the destruction wreaked by the dragon.

"Freya," he called as he came closer, "have you seen Dracagend? We need-"

He halted abruptly upon catching a glimpse of the figure the druid girl knelt over, and said in a small voice, "Oh." Behind him, Arthur was trying to soothe a sobbing woman, while his knights were digging in the rubble for survivors.

"Merlin, I need you help," pleaded Freya. The boy made no response, simply staring, his face pale, at his father's motionless form.

"Merlin!" she snapped, and he jumped. "He's alive," she said gently as his eyes slowly drifted away from his father and focused on her. "But he needs to be taken to Gaius. I need you to help me get this beam off of him."

The young warlock must not have been as aware as she thought, for he simply nodded and, with a flash of his eyes, the beam lifted off of the dragonlord and fell beside him, opposite of Freya.

"Merlin!" she whispered in horror, glancing around frantically. Fortunately, no one seemed to have noticed. She shook her head, muttering that Gaius was right, it was indeed a wonder that Merlin still possessed his head.

"Alright, Merlin," she murmured. "Why don't you help me carry him to Gaius?"

-Merlin-

"Sire, my brother was in the building!"

"All of our wealth was stored there! What will we do now?"

"Have you seen my son? He's about twelve years old, dark hair and green eyes."

"My lord, my wife has been badly burned by the fire."

Arthur stood amongst his people, listening to their cries of distress, wishing there was something he could do. Groaning, he rubbed his aching forehead and glanced up just in time to see Merlin and that girl of his carrying someone between them. His eyes widened as the man's head fell to the side and the prince caught a glimpse of the face.

It was Balinor. The young man's heart sank. He had been hoping that the dragonlord would be able to stop the dragon, yet it appeared that was not to be.

"Merlin!" He hurried over to the magicians.

The boy, grimacing, glanced up at Arthur briefly. "I'm a bit busy," he growled tightly.

"Is he alive?" inquired the prince quietly, and Merlin's face softened at his gentle tone. He gave a brief nod.

"We're taking him to Gaius now," he murmured.

"Sir Leon!"

The curly-haired knight, who had been assisting a woman in freeing her arm from the rubble, stood quickly. "Sire?"

"Help my servant carry this man to Gaius. He needs medical attention immediately."

Leon seemed slightly taken aback, as there were many injured and in need of the physician, but, like a true loyal knight, he merely nodded and said, "Of course, sire," before moving to take Freya's place at Balinor's knees. The druid girl stepped back as the men continued on.

"Is there anything you wish me to assist you with, my lord?" she murmured respectfully, keeping her head down. Although it had been some time now since she had been under the Bastet curse, she was still afraid he would recognize her if she looked him in the eyes.

"No, thank you," replied Arthur, feeling awkward talking to Merlin's girlfriend without said servant present. "I'm sure Gaius could use your help, though."

"Of course, sire," she said quietly, then hurried away.

-Merlin-

"How is he, Gaius?" asked Merlin anxiously.

Gaius glanced down at his friend sadly. "Not good, I'm afraid. Several of his ribs were broken by the beam, and he has a nasty head injury as well."

Merlin groaned and sat down, running his hands through his hair. "This is my fault," he murmured miserably.

The old physician said nothing, merely resting a comforting hand on his ward's shoulder.

"How is he?" cried Freya, rushing over. Upon seeing their faces, she gave a soft moan and sank down beside the young warlock. "I'm so sorry, Merlin," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. He made no reply, simply leaned his head against her shoulder.

"What do we do, Gaius?" murmured the girl sadly. "How will we stop the dragon?"

"We can't," replied the old man simply. "We need a dragonlord."

"Then what do we do?"

"We use magic to heal him," cried Merlin suddenly, sitting up straight.

"Merlin!" hissed Gaius in horror. Glancing around, he ensured that no one had overheard. All the people in the room were too distracted by either their own suffering or that of their loved ones to pay the physician and his ward any mind.

"Yes," said Gaius with a weary sigh.

"But, Gaius," protested the boy, more quietly this time, "you know I'm rubbish at healing spells."

"Yes, I do," replied the physician steadily, his gaze resting on Freya.

She gave a small gasp. "You want _me _to perform the spell? But my magic- it's nowhere near as strong as Merlin's."

"It is when it comes to healing," Gaius said gently. "We need you to do it as soon as possible. Why don't you and Merlin go research it? I can manage here by myself for awhile."

-Merlin-

Merlin rubbed his eyes in exhaustion as the predawn light crept through the windows of Gaius' chambers. Yawning, he focused back on the book of spells, forcing himself to concentrate.

"Merlin, here!" cried Freya.

Rising with a sudden renewal of energy, the young man looked over her shoulder at the book. "Yes, yes! That's it!"

Freya shot to her feet and made for the door.

"Freya!" called Merlin, stopping her in her tracks. "You may want to put the illegal magic book down first."

Grinning tiredly, she did as he said and dashed for the door.

-Merlin-

"He's over there, in the corner. Make sure no one sees you," instructed Gaius as he applied a salve to a young man's burn as he moaned in pain.

Nodding, Freya and Merlin hurried over to Balinor, who had been set aside slightly from the other, doubtless to give Freya room to perform magic without being seen.

The boy felt his heart twist at the sight of his father. The dragonlord was white and completely motionless upon his cut, bandages wrapped around his head and otherwise bare chest. Tears sprang into the warlock's eyes, and he rubbed the orbs vigorously before anything could leak out. _My father has been badly injured, _he thought, _and now the girl I love is risking her life to save him, and it's all my fault. I knew this could happen, yet I freed the dragon anyways._

"It's all right, Merlin," said Freya gently, resting a hand upon his shoulder. He wondered briefly if she was telling him that his father would be fine, or that there was nothing shameful in crying. Perhaps it was both.

Pulling away from the boy, the druid knelt at Balinor's right and, scanning the surroundings to ensure no one was watching, raised her hand and murmured, "Þurhhæle dolgbenna." (1)

There was a long moment of tense silence.

"Nothing's happening," whispered Merlin frantically. "What's going on?"

-Merlin-

"Gaius, have you seen Merlin?"

The old physician glanced up as the prince approached.

"I wanted to know how Bal- how Dracagend was doing," murmured the young man.

"He is recovering very well, sire," lied Gaius, knowing that, in a few minutes, it would be the truth.

Arthur nodded. "Right, then. Where is my idiot manservant? I'm in desperate need of a bath and a rest."

"I, ah, I'm not sure, sire. Perhaps you could wait here for him?"

"No, I'd be standing here all day if I did," replied Arthur brusquely. "I'll just go and look for him myself."

He headed towards the left side of the room, the opposite side from Balinor. Gaius allowed himself a relieved sigh and went back to tending a patient had been trampled by a panicked horse.

And that was why he did not see when Arthur turned around and headed straight for the dragonlord.

As Arthur approached the body with the two familiar figures crouching over it, he opened his mouth to call to Merlin, but something in their body language held him back, and, scarcely knowing why he did so, he crept forward to better hear their conversation, sliding into an alcove out of their line of sight.

"It isn't working," he heard Merlin moan. He glanced at the dragonlord and was shocked by his ghastly pale appearance. Hadn't Gaius said the man was recovering?

"I don't know why it isn't," Freya muttered, frustration coloring her tone.

"Just… try again," murmured Merlin, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.

"Merlin," snapped the druid girl firmly, "I am _not _going to let your father die, you hear me?"

The boy gave a strained nod as Arthur watched in bewilderment. What did Freya mean about Merlin's father? Then it hit him and he had to suppress a strangled gasp. _Balinor. _Balinor was Merlin's father.

He had no time to digest this information, however, for just as it occured to him, the girl stretched out her hand and murmured something unfamiliar, and her eyes flashed gold.

_Magic._

As Balinor drew in a huge gasp and opened his eyes, Arthur stepped out of his hiding place and thundered, "What is going on here?!"

**(1) "Heal the wounds." Used by Merlin (in singular) in 3.05, **_**The Crystal Cave.**_

**A/N: Yes, I did just end it there. Making him find out about Freya was sort of a spur-of-the-moment decision. We'll see how that goes. xD**

**I'm sorry for being so evil, but it took me long enough to write this, and I didn't want you guys to wait another two weeks for the chapter.**

**Please review? Even if you're just going to rant about the ending…. xD**

**Oh, and, my little brother turned 9 this week AND watched his first Merlin episode today (it was 1.06, "A Remedy to Cure All Ills)! So, in his honor, I shall tell the story of how I came up with the title of this story.**

**So, I was trying to come up with a title for this story as I was getting ready to publish it, and he was in my room, and I said out loud that I couldn't think of a title. So he asked me, "What's the story about?" I told him, and he said, "What about **_**My son, Merlin**_**?" just as I was thinking the same thing. So I said to myself, "It's destiny" and thus this story was named. xD**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I'm so sorry about the last chapter. I don't feel like it was very good (that's what I get for writing it at midnight xp) and the Freya reveal was totally unplanned. Plus I left you on a cliffhanger...**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews/favorites/follows! It means a lot. =)**

Chapter 15

"_Merlin," snapped the druid girl firmly, "I am not going to let your father die, you hear me?"_

_The boy gave a strained nod as Arthur watched in bewilderment. What did Freya mean about Merlin's father? Then it hit him and he had to suppress a strangled gasp. Balinor. Balinor was Merlin's father._

_He had no time to digest this information, however, for just as it occurred to him, the girl stretched out her hand and murmured something unfamiliar, and her eyes flashed gold._

_Magic._

_As Balinor drew in a huge gasp and opened his eyes, Arthur stepped out of his hiding place and thundered, "What is going on here?!"_

"Arthur!" exclaimed Merlin, springing to his feet. "I can explain!"

"There's nothing to _explain_, Merlin! She just used _magic_!" He hissed the word as though the very sound of it was abhorrent to him. "And you lied to me," he added, grief and hurt underlying the anger in his tone.

Merlin blinked rapidly, feeling tears well up in his eyes. "What did you want me to do, Arthur?" he said finally. "I would be killed if your father knew. You know that. And Freya… she was healing Balinor, the only man that can save Camelot. She risked her life to save _your _city. Surely you can't blame her for that?"

Suddenly Arthur felt exhausted and weary and he wanted nothing more than for this to all be a dream. "Fine," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Balinor must go and stop the dragon. We can deal with this when the city is safe."

-Merlin-

The evening air was cool, sharp with the bite of the approaching winter. Merlin barely noticed the chill, his body numb. Over and over again in his mind the scene played out- Freya and her incriminating words and actions, Arthur stepping out from the shadows, his face contorted with rage, but anguish in his eyes. The warlock didn't think he could ever forget the betrayal he had seen there.

And he could not help but wonder, if this was how Arthur had reacted just to the revelation of his father and girlfriend, what would his reaction be when he discovered who Merlin truly was?

"Are you alright?"

Merlin glanced up from adjusting the straps on his horse's saddle and was tempted to give his best smile and reply, "Yes." But instead, he gave a sad sigh and murmured, "No."

Balinor said nothing, merely rested a hand briefly on his son's shoulder before mounting his own horse.

-Merlin-

They reached the clearing just after the sun slipped behind the horizon. Freya and Arthur had wanted to come as Balinor summoned and killed the dragon, but the dragonlord had protested that they would distract him, as he would be worrying about them while he spoke to Kilgharrah.

Balinor had been concerned about leaving Freya in Camelot with Arthur, but the prince had assured him, "I said I would wait until all this was over, and I am a man of my word." The implied, "unlike some people here," had been clear.

Merlin had winced at the barb, but said nothing in reply.

"How do you know he'll be here?" the warlock asked now, glancing around the quickly dimming clearing.

"I'm going to call him," replied Balinor, dismounting and setting the lance he carried down. He led his horse over to a nearby tree and secured the rope around its trunk.

"Call him?" inquired Merlin, dismounting and tethering his horse.

"I didn't tell you?" The dragonlord was surprised. "When a dragonlord calls to a dragon in the dragon tongue, the dragon must answer."

"Now that you mention it, it does sound a little familiar," replied the boy sheepishly.

Balinor rolled his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he then threw back his head and roared. "_O dráko! Akoúste ti foní mou kai érchontai se ména_!"(1)

A shiver ran down Merlin's spine at the power in the words. Something about the language felt familiar to him, as if he had once known it but then forgotten it. Suddenly he found himself wishing he could do what his father did. _No, _he reminded himself, _you don't. Because for you to do that, he would have to be dead._

Soon the steady beat of wings was heard over the treetops. Glancing up, Merlin saw the outline of the dragon against the dark sky as he flew towards them.

Within a minute, the dragon had landed, shaking the ground as his mighty body alighted.

His demeanor, however, was anything but mighty. Kilgharrah's head was bowed, his wings pulled tight against his body, his body close to the ground. For the first time since Arthur's discovery, Merlin felt a brief flash of amusement. The dragon seemed almost… sheepish.

Balinor bent over slowly and grasped the lance. His face was torn with regret and grief as he murmured, "I do not want to do this, Kilgharrah. You are the last of your kind, and I am your brother. But you have given me no choice."

Raising the lance, he aimed at the right side of the creature's chest. Kilgharrah's only response was to cringe and lower his head even more.

As the dragonlord drew back his hand to slay the last of his kin, Merlin cried, "No!"

Dragon and dragonlord drew back in surprise, staring in shock at the warlock.

"No," repeated Merlin. "You said it yourself. He is the last of his kind. If he dies, the race dies with him."

"Merlin, Kilgharrah has attacked Camelot, attacked _Arthur_. He has brought this on himself."

"But you can command him, can't you?" said the boy desperately. "All you have to do is command him not to attack Camelot, and the city will be safe, and the dragons will survive. Everyone wins." _Except for me and Freya, _he thought grimly. "I know he has attacked innocent people. But can you honestly say you would not do the same in his situation? And he is the last of the dragons. You cannot eliminate your kin, _our _kin, because of one mistake. Give him another chance." He met the dragon's gaze steadily. "I'm sure he will learn from it."

His father nodded. "You're right," he murmured. Turning back to the dragon, he commanded, "_Poté den tha epitetheí Camelot kai páli_!" (2)

The dragon had straightened up, and now he bowed his head in respect. "I will not forget your clemency, young warlock. Nor yours, dragonlord." Raising up, he took off with a rush of air.

-Merlin-

"You say that the dragon is dead? How did this happen?"

Arthur cleared his throat nervously. "It appears the dragonlord who was previously in Camelot, Balinor, summoned him and killed him."

"Balinor?" Uther leaned forward in his throne, eyes gleaming. "He was there?"

"I only caught a glimpse of him, sire," replied Arthur. "I sent men after him as soon as I reached Camelot, but I fear he is long gone."

The king nodded, sinking back, disappointment making his features heavy. "Very well. You are dismissed."

With a nod and a courteous, "Sire," Arthur turned and strode out of the room, Merlin following nervously behind.

The prince stalked through the halls of the castle and into his room, Merlin plodding after him.

"Close the door, Merlin," ordered Arthur quietly, standing motionless in the middle of the room, his back to the servant.

Swallowing, the boy obeyed.

"Is the dragon really dead, Merlin?"

Of all the questions and accusations the warlock had been planning to hear, this was not one he had expected. He opened his mouth to give the automatic response, but then, thinking of the hurt on Arthur's face, he replied truthfully, "No, sire." After this, Merlin was determined there would be as few lies as possible between them.

"I see." Arthur's tone was cold, emotionless.

"Arthur-" began the other boy tentatively.

"Don't!" barked the prince suddenly, whirling around to face the servant. "_Don't _say it, Merlin! I don't want to hear you apologies and your excuses. You _lied _to me! You fed me that story about your father so I would pity you and allow the dragonlord to stay in Camelot! You took advantage of me!"

To his horror, Merlin felt tears spring to his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply, but then thought better of it and pressed his lips together.

"I just… don't understand," whispered Arthur, sounding as broken as Merlin felt.

"Arthur, I wanted to tell you. Truly, I did. I had found my father, and I was so happy. I wanted to share that with you. But he was a dragonlord, the last of a people that had been hunted down and killed by your father."

Arthur's eyes tightened at the implication. "You think I would turn you and your father in?" His voice was quiet, steady, but Merlin knew the prince well enough to hear the undercurrent of hurt.

"I don't know," said Merlin sadly. "And I didn't think it was right to force you to choose between us."

Arthur swallowed and nodded stiffly. "And your girl?"

"She was doing all she could to save the city," murmured the warlock. "She risked her own life to save those of everyone else. Surely you cannot blame her for that?"

"But you knew, Merlin." There was still hurt in the prince's tone. "You knew what she was, and yet you protected her."

"It wasn't her fault," protested the boy softly, looking down at his hands. "She didn't have a choice. She just discovered she had it one day, and studied it so she could control it."

The prince hesitated, caught off guard. "What?"

"It's not her fault, Arthur," said Merlin imploringly, meeting the prince's eyes for the first time. "She didn't choose this or want this any more than we did. Please don't punish her. If you want to punish someone, punish me for lying to royalty. But not her." A tear ran down his cheek, and he rubbed at it furiously, hoping the prince wouldn't notice.

The blond was silent for a long time. "Alright," he said finally. "I won't turn them in."

"Thank you, Arthur!" Merlin practically sobbed, his face alight with joy.

"Merlin," said the prince quietly as the boy made for the door. "I want you to know that…" Arthur bit his lip, struggling with what he was about to say. "You can trust me," he said quietly, "with anything. I don't want you to feel as though you cannot tell me about your life because of my father. Do you understand?"

Merlin could not swallow past the lump in his throat. His eyes were wet again. "Yes, Arthur," he whispered. "Thank you."

The prince nodded stiffly. "I believe it goes without saying that if I find them practicing any form of harmful magic, I will have no choice but to turn them in to my father."

"If you find them doing such a thing," promised Merlin with a grin, "I'll help you drag them in myself."

"And Merlin, do not think because I am doing this that I am not angry with you for lying to me. I trusted you, and you betrayed that trust. I am only acting this way because it is the right thing to do. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sire," came the whispered response.

"Good. You are dismissed."

And, with a respectful nod, the servant slipped out, heartsick once more and, above all, dreading the day when Arthur discovered the truth.

**(1) Oh dragon! Hear my voice and come to me. The language is Greek. I used Google Translate. xD**

**(2) You will never attack Camelot again.**

**A/N: I'm so sorry about how long it took to update! =(**

**This month I'm going to be working a lot on college applications (I have a ton :( ) so the updates may slow down. They should pick up starting in January, though. =)**

**Next chapter will be either a brief glimpse of Morgana or a humorous one in which Merlin and Balinor discuss proposal techniques. Which would you guys like to see first?**


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